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CCESfSIGIIT DEPOSIE 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 



SCHOOL EFFICIENCY MONOGRAPHS 

Education of Defectives in the Public Schools 

Arjt 
Rural Education and the Consolidated School 

JRtxtttrmtKiit 
Problems in State High School Finance 

Commercial Tests and How to Use Them 

iEatott 
Record Forms for Vocational Schools 

The Public and Its School 

Standards in English 

Mtuh 
An Experiment in the Fundamentals 

pparaim 
The Reconstructed School 

Newsboy Service 

The Teaching of Spelling 



SCHOOL EFFICIENCY MONOGRAPHS 

THE 

RECONSTRUCTED 

SCHOOL 

BY 

FRANCIS B. PEARSON 

SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC 
INSTRUCTION FOB OHIO 

Author of 

"the EVOLUTION OF THE TEACHER" 

" THE HIGH SCHOOL PROBLEM " 

"REVERIES OF A SCHOOLMASTER" 

AND "THE VITALIZED SCHOOL" 




YONKERS-ON-HUDSON, NEW YORK 

WORLD BOOK COMPANY 

1919 



WORLD BOOK COMPANY 

THE HOUSE OF APPLIED KNOWLEDGE 
Established, 1905, by Caspar W. Hodgson 

YONKEKS-ON-HUDSON, NeW YORK 

2126 Praibie Avenue, Chicago 



Publishers of the following professional 
works: School Efficiency Series, edited 
by Paul H. Hanus, complete in thirteen 
volumes; Educational Survey Series, 
four volumes already issued and others 
projected; School Efficiency Monographs, 
eleven numbers now ready, others in 
active preparation 



%1 



Copyright, 1919, by World Book Company 
All rights reserved 
g)CI.A5 12702 



MAR 10 1919 



PREFACE 

IN our school processes there are many constants 
which have general recognition as such by thought- 
ful people. On the other hand, there are many varia- 
bles which should be subjected to close scrutiny to the 
end that they may be made to yield forth the largest 
possible returns upon the investment of time and effort. 
These phases of school procedure constitute the real 
problem in the work of reconstruction, and the follow- 
ing pages represent an effort to point the way toward 
larger and better results in the realm of these variables. 
In general, the aims and purposes of the worker deter- 
mine the quality of the work done. If, therefore, this 
volume succeeds in stimulating teachers to elevate the 
goals of their endeavors, it will have accomplished its 
purpose. 

F. B. P. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. A Preliminary Survey op the Task Before 

THE School 1 

II. The Past as Related to the Present . . 10 

III. The Future as Related to the Present . 17 

IV. Integrity 27 

V. Appreciation 36 

VI. Aspiration 46 

VII. Initiative 63 

VIII. Imagination 62 

IX. Reverence 70 

X. Sense of Responsibility 78 

XI. Loyalty 87 

XII. Democracy 96 

XIII. Serenity 102 

XIV. Life 110 

Index 119 



THE 
RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

CHAPTER ONE 

A PuEiriMiNAEY Survey of the Task before 
THE School 

WHEN people come to think alike, they tend to 
act alike; unison in thinking begets unison in 
action. It is often said that the man and wife who 
have spent years together have grown to resemble each 
other ; but the resemblance is probably in actions rather 
than in looks; the fact is that they have had common 
goals of thinking throughout the many years they have 
lived together and so have come to act in unison. The 
wise teacher often adjusts difficult situations in her 
school by inducing the pupils to think toward a com- 
mon goal. In their zeal for a common enterprise the 
children forget their differences and attain unison in 
action as the result of their unison in thinking. The 
school superintendent knows full well that if he can 
bring teachers, pupils, and parents to think toward a 
common goal, he will soon have unity of action. When 
people catch step mentally, they do the same physically, 
and as they move forward along the paths of their 
common thinking, their ways converge until, in time, 
they find themselves walking side by side in amiable 
and agi'eeable converse. 

In the larger world outside the school, community 
enterprises help to generate unity of thinking and con- 
sequent unity of action. The pastor finds it one of his 
larger tasks to establish a focus for the thinking of 

[1] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

his people in order to induce concerted action. If 
the enterprise is one of charity, the neighbors soon find 
themselves vying with one another in zeal and good will. 
In the zest of a common purpose they see one another 
with new eyes and find delight in working with people 
whose society they once avoided. They can now do 
teamwork, because they are all thinking toward the 
same high and worthy goal; lines of demarcation are 
obliterated and spirits blend in a common purpose. 
Unity of action becomes inevitable as soon as thinking 
becomes unified. 

Cooperation follows close upon the heels of com- 
munity thinking. In the presence of a great calamity, 
rivalries, differences of creed and party, and long- 
established animosities disappear in the zeal for benef- 
icent action. In the case of fire or flood people are at 
one in their actions because they are thinking toward 
the common goal of rescue. They act together only 
when they think together. Indeed, cooperation is an 
impossibility apart from unified thinking. Herein lies 
the efficacy of leadership. It is the province of the 
leader to induce unity of thinking, to animate with a 
common purpose, knowing that united action will cer- 
tainly ensue. If he can cause the thinking of people to 
center upon a focal point, he establishes his claim to 
leadership. 

What is true of individuals is true, also, of na- 
tions. Before they can act in concert, they must 
think in concert, and, to do this, they must ac- 
quire the ability to think toward common goals. 
If, to illustrate, all nations should come to think toward 
the goal of democracy, there would ensue a closer 
sympathy among them, and, in time, modifications of 
their forms of government would come about as a natu- 

[2] 



A PRELIMINARY SURVEY 

ral result of their unity of thinking. Again, if all 
nations of the world should set up the quality of courage 
as one of the objectives of their thinking they would 
be drawn closer together in their feelings and in their 
conduct. If the parents and teachers of all these na- 
tions should strive to exorcise fear in the training of 
children, this purpose would constitute a bond of sym- 
pathy among them and they would be encouraged by 
the reflection that this high purpose was animating 
parents and teachers the world around. Courage, of 
course, is of the spirit and typifies many spiritual 
qualities that characterize civilization of high grade. 
It is quite conceivable that these qualities of the spirit 
may become the goals of thinking in all lands. Thus 
the nations would be brought into a relation of closer 
harmony. Had a score of boys shared the experience 
of the lad who grew into the likeness of the Great Stone 
Face, their differences and disparities would have dis- 
appeared in the zeal of a common purpose and they 
would have become a unified organization in thinking 
toward the same goal. 

We cannot hope to achieve the brotherhood of man 
until the nations of the world have directed their think- 
ing toward the same goals. What these goals shall 
be must be determined by competent leadership through 
the process of education. When we think in unison 
we are taken out of ourselves and become merged in 
the spirit of the goal toward which we are thinking. 
If we were to agree upon courage as one of the spiritual 
qualities that should characterize all nations and or- 
ganize all educational forces for the development of 
this quality, we should find the nations coming closer 
to one another with this quality as a common posses- 
sion. Courage gives freedom, and in this freedom the 

[3] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

nations would touch spiritual elbows and would thus 
become spiritual confederates and comrades. By gen- 
erating and developing this and other spiritual qualities 
the nations would become merged and unity of feeling 
and actions would surely ensue. Since love is the 
greatest thing in the world, this quality may well be 
made the major goal toward which the thinking of all 
nations shall be directed. When all peoples come to 
think and yearn toward this goal, hatred and strife will 
be banished and peace and righteousness will be en- 
throned in the hearts of men. When there has been 
developed in all the nations of the earth an ardent love 
for the true, the beautiful, and the good, civilization 
will step up to a higher level and we shall see the dawn 
of unity. 

We who are indulging in dreams of the brotherhood 
of man must enlarge our concept of society before we 
can hope to have our dreams come true. It is a far 
cry from society as a strictly American affair to 
society as a world affair. The teaching of our schools 
has had a distinct tendency to restrict our notion of 
society to that within our own national boundaries. In 
this we convict ourselves of provincialism. Society is 
far larger than America, or China, or Russia, or all the 
islands of the sea in combination. It may entail some 
straining at the mental leash to win this concept of 
society, but it must be won as a condition precedent 
to a fair and just estimate of what the function of 
education really is and what it is of which the school- 
house must be an exponent. Society must be thought 
of as including all nations, tribes, and tongues. In 
our thinking, the word " society " must suggest the 
hut that nestles on the mountain-side as well as the 
palace that fronts the stately boulevard. It must sug- 

£4] 



A PRELIMINARY SURVEY 

gest the cape that indents the sea as well as the vast 
plain that stretches out from river to river. And it 
must suggest the toiler at his task, the employer at 
his desk, the man of leisure in his home, the voyager 
on the ocean, the soldier in the ranks, the child at his 
lessons, and the mother crooning her baby to sleep. 

We descant volubly upon the subjects of citizenship 
and civilization but, as yet, have achieved no adequate 
definition of either of the terms upon which we expatiate 
so fluently. Our books teem with admonitions to train 
for citizenship in order that we may attain civilization 
of better quality. But, in all this, we imply American 
citizenship and American civilization, and here, again, 
we show forth our provincialism. But even in this 
restricted field we arrive at our hazy concept of a good 
citizen by the process of elimination. We aver that 
a good citizen does not do this and does not do that; 
yet the teachers in our schools would find it difficult 
to describe a good citizen adequately, in positive terms. 
Our notions of good citizenship are more or less vague 
and misty and, therefore, our concept of civilization 
is equally so. 

Granting, however, that we may finally achieve satis- 
factory definitions of citizenship and civilization as 
applying to our own country, it does not follow that 
the same definitions will obtain in other lands. A good 
citizen according to the Chinese conception may differ 
widely from a good citizen in the United States. Topog- 
raphy, climate, associations, occupations, traditions, 
and racial tendencies must all be taken into account 
in formulating a definition. Before we can gain a 
right concept of good citizenship as a world affair we 
must make a thoughtful study of world conditions. In 
so doing, we may have occasion to modify and correct 

[5] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

some of our own preconceived notions and thus extend 
the horizon of our education. 

What society is and should be in the world at large ; 
what good citizenship is and ought to be in the whole 
world; and what civilization is, should be, and may be 
as a world enterprise — these considerations are the 
foundation stones upon which we must build the temple 
of education now in the process of reconstruction. 
Otherwise the work will be narrow, illiberal, spasmodic, 
and sporadic. It must be possible to arrive at a com- 
mon denominator of the concepts of society, citizenship, 
and civilization as pertaining to all nations ; it must 
be possible to contrive a composite of all these concepts 
to which all nations will subscribe ; and it must be pos- 
sible to discover some fundamental principles that will 
constitute a focal point toward which the thinking of 
all nations can be directed. Once this focal point 
is determined and the thinking of the world focused 
upon it, the work of reconstruction has been inaugu- 
rated. 

But the task is not a simple one by any means ; quite 
the contrary, for it is world-embracing in its scope. 
However difficult the task, it is, none the less, altogether 
alluring and worthy. It is quite within the range of 
possibilities for a book to be written, even a textbook, 
that would serve a useful purpose and meet a distinct 
need in the schools of all lands. At this point the 
question of languages obtrudes itself. When people 
think in unison a common language is reduced to the 
plane of a mere convenience, not a necessity. The 
buyer and the seller may not speak the same language 
but, somehow, they contrive to effect a satisfactory 
adjustment because their thinking is centered upon the 
same objective. When thinking becomes cosmopolitan, 

[6] 



A PRELIMINARY SURVEY 

conduct becomes equally so. If this be conceded, then 
it is quite within the range of possibilities to formulate 
a course of study for all the schools of the world, if 
only we set up as goals the qualities that will make 
for the well-being of people in all lands. True, the 
means may differ in different lands, but, even so, the 
ends will remain constant. A thousand people may 
set out from their homes with Rome as their destination. 
They will use all means of travel and speak many 
languages as they journey forward, but their destina- 
tion continues constant and they will use the best means 
at their command to attain the common goal. Simi- 
larly, if we set up the quality of loyalty as one of our 
educational goals, the means may differ but the goal 
does not change and, therefore, the nations will be 
actuated by a common purpose in their educational 
endeavors. 

The one thing needful for the execution of this ambi- 
tious program of securing concerted thinking is to 
have in our schools teachers who are world-minded, 
who think in world units. Such teachers, and only 
such, can plan for world education and world affairs, 
and bring their plans to a successful issue. Some 
teachers seem able to think only of a schoolroom; 
others of a building ; others of a town or township ; 
still others of a state; some of a country; and fewer 
yet of the world as a single thing. A person can be 
no larger than his unit of thinking. One who thinks 
in small units convicts himself of provincialism and 
soon becomes intolerant. Such a person arrogates to 
himself superiority and inclines to feel somewhat T^|)nr 
temptuous of people outside the narrow limits of his 
thinking. If he thinks his restricted horizon bounds 
all that is worth knowing, he will not exert himself to 

[7] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

climb to a higher level in order that he may gain a 
wider view. He is disdainful and intolerant of whatever 
lies beyond his horizon, and his attitude, if not his 
words, repeats the question of the culpable Cain, " Am 
I my brother's keeper? " He is encased in an armor 
that is impervious to ordinary appeal. He is satisfied 
with himself and asks merely to be let alone. He is 
quite content to be held fast bound in his traditional 
moorings without any feeling of sympathy for the 
world as a whole. • 

The reverse side of the picture reveals the teacher 
who is world-minded. Such a teacher is never less than 
magnanimous ; intolerance has no place in his scheme of 
life ; he is in sympathy with all nations in their progress 
toward light and right ; and he is interested in all world 
progress whether in science, in art, in literature, in 
economics, in industry, or in education. To this end 
he is careful to inform himself as to world movements 
and notes with keen interest the trend and development 
of civilization. Being a world-citizen himself, he strives, 
in his school work, to develop in his pupils the capacity 
and the desire for world-citizenship. With no abate- 
ment of thoroughness in the work of his school, he still 
finds time to look up from his tasks to catch the view 
beyond his own national boundaries. If the superin- 
tendent who is world-minded has the hearty cooperation 
of teachers who are also world-minded, together they 
will be able to develop a plan of education that is world- 
wide. To produce teachers of this type may require 
a readjustment and reconstruction of the work of col- 
leges and training schools to the end that the teachers 
they send forth may measure up to the requirements 
of this world-wide concept of education. But these 
institutions can hardly hope to be immune to the pro- 
[8] 



A PRELIMINARY SURVEY 



cess of reconstruction. They can hardly hope to cite 
the past as a guide for the future, for traditional lines 
are being obliterated and new lines are being marked 
out for civilization, including education in its larger 
and newer import. 



[9] 



CHAPTER TWO 

The Past as Related to the Peesent 

IN a significant degree the present is the heritage of 
the past, and any critical appraisement of the pres- 
ent must take cognizance of the influence of the past. 
That there are weak places in our present civilization, 
no one will deny; nor will it be denied that the sources 
of some of these may be found in the past. We have 
it on good authority that " the fathers have eaten sour 
grapes and the children's teeth are set on edge." Had 
the eating of sour grapes in the past been more re- 
stricted, the present generation would stand less in need 
of dentistry. When we take an inventory of the people 
of the present who are defective in body, in mind, or 
in spirit, it seems obvious that the consumption of sour 
grapes, in the past, must have been quite extensive. If 
the blood of the grandfather was tainted, it is probable 
that the blood of the grandchild is impure. 

The defects of the present would seem to constitute 
a valid indictment against the educational agencies 
of the past. These agencies are not confined to the 
school but include law, medicine, civics, sociology, gov- 
ernment, hygiene, eugenics, home life, and physical 
training. Had all these phases of education done 
their perfect work in the past, the present would be 
in better case. It seems a great pity that it required 
a world war to render us conscious of many of the 
defects of society. The draft board made discoveries 
of facts that seem to have eluded the home, the school, 
the family physician, and the boards of health. Many 
of these discoveries are most disquieting and reflect 
unfavorably upon some of the educational practices of 

[10] 



PAST AS RELATED TO PRESENT 

the past. The many cases of physical unfitness and the 
fewer cases of athletic hearts seem to have escaped the 
attention of physical directors and athletic coaches, 
not to mention parents and physicians. Seeing that 
one fourth of our young men have been pronounced 
physically unsound, it behooves us to turn our gaze 
toward the past to determine, if possible, wherein our 
educational processes have been at fault. 

The thoughtful person who stands on the street- 
corner watching the promiscuous throng pass by and 
making a careful appraisement of their physical, mental, 
and spiritual qualities, will not find the experience par- 
ticularly edifying. He will note many facts that will 
depress rather than encourage and inspire. In the 
throng he will see many men and women, young and old, 
who, as specimens of physical manhood and woman- 
hood, are far from perfect. He will see many who are 
young in years but who are old in looks and physical 
bearing. They creep or shuffle along as if bowed down 
with the weight of years, lacking the graces of buoyancy 
and abounding youth. They are bent, gnarled, 
shriveled, faded, weak, and wizened. Their faces reveal 
the absence of the looks that betoken hope, courage, 
aspiration, and high purpose. Their lineaments and 
their gait show forth a ghastly forlornness that excites 
pity and despair. They seem the veriest derelicts, 
tossed to and fro by the currents of life without hope 
of redemption. 

Their whole bearing indicates that they are languid, 
morbid, misanthropic, and nerveless. They seem ill- 
nourished as well as mentally and spiritually starved. 
They seem the victims of inherited or acquired weak- 
nesses that stamp them as belonging among the physi- 
cally unfit. If the farmer should discover among his 

[11] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

animals as large a percentage of unfitness and imper- 
fection, he would reach the conclusion at once that 
something was radically wrong and would immediately 
set on foot well-thought-out plans to rectify the situa- 
tion. But, seeing that these derelicts are human beings 
and not farm stock, we bestow upon them a sneer, or 
possibly a pittance by way of alms, and pass on our 
complacent ways. Looking upon the imperfect passers- 
by, the observer is reminded of the tens of thousands 
of children who are defective in mind and body and 
are hidden away from public gaze, a charge upon the 
resources of the state. 

Such a setting forth of the less agreeable side of 
present conditions would seem out of place, if not actu- 
ally impertinent, were we inclined to ignore the fact 
that diagnosis must precede treatment. The surgeon 
knows full well that there will be pain, but he is com- 
forted by the reflection that restoration to health will 
succeed the pain. We need to look squarely at the 
facts as they are in order to determine what must be 
done to avert a repetition in the future. We have seen 
the sins of the fathers visited upon the children to the 
third and fourth generation and still retained our com- 
placency. We preach temperance to the young men 
of our day, but fail to set forth the fact that right 
living on their part will make for the well-being of their 
grandchildren. We exhibit our thoroughbred live stock 
at our fairs and plume ourselves upon our ability to 
produce stock of such quality. In the case of live 
stock we know that the present is the product of the 
past, but seem less ready to acknowledge the same fact 
as touching human animals. We may know that our 
ancestors planted thorns and yet we seem surprised 
that we cannot gather a harvest of grapes, and we 

[ 12 ] 



PAST AS RELATED TO PRESENT 

would fain gather figs from a planting of thistles. 
But this may not be. We harvest according to the 
planting of our ancestors, and, with equal certainty, 
if we eat sour grapes the teeth of our descendants will 
surely be put on edge. 

If we are to reconstruct our educational processes 
we must make a critical survey of the entire situation 
that we may be fully advised of the magnitude of the 
problem to which we are to address ourselves. We 
may not blink the facts but must face them squarely; 
otherwise we shall not get on. We may take unction 
to ourselves for our philanthropic zeal in caring for 
our unfortunates in penal and eleemosynary institu- 
tions, but that will not suffice. We must frankly con- 
sider by what means the number of these unfortunates 
may be reduced. If we fail to do this we convict our- 
selves of cowardice or impotence. We pile up our mil- 
lions in buildings for the insane, the feeble-minded, the 
vicious, the epileptic, and plume ourselves upon our 
munificence. But if all these unfortunates could be 
redeemed from their thralldom, and these countless mil- 
lions turned back into the channels of trade, civilization 
would take on a new meaning. Here is one of the 
problems that calls aloud to education for a solution 
and will not be denied. 

One of the avowed purposes of education is to lift 
society to a higher plane of thinking and acting, and 
it is always and altogether pertinent to make an inven- 
tory to discover if this laudable purpose is being accom- 
plished. Such an inventory can be made only by an 
analyst ; the work cannot be delegated either to a pes- 
simist or to an optimist. In his efforts to determine 
whether society is advancing or receding, the analyst 
often makes disquieting discoveries. 

[13] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

It must be admitted by the most devoted and patriotic 
American that our civilization includes many elements 
that can truly be denominated frivolous, superficial, 
artificial, and inconsequential. As a people, we seek to 
be entertained, but fail to make a nice distinction be- 
tween entertainment and amusement. War, it is true, 
has caused us to think more soberly and feel more 
deeply; but the bizarre, the gaudy, and the superficial 
still make a strong appeal to us. We are quite happy 
to wear paste diamonds, provided only that they 
sparkle. So long have we been substituting the fic- 
titious for the genuine that we have contracted the 
habit of loose, fictitious thinking. So much does the 
show element appeal to us that we incline to parade 
even our troubles. Simplicity and sincerity, whether 
in dress, in speech, or in conduct, have so long been 
foreign to our daily living and thinking that we incline 
to style these qualities as old-fogyish. 

A hundred or more young men came to a certain city 
to enlist for the war. As they marched out through the 
railway station they rent the air with whooping and 
yells and other manifestations of boisterous conduct. 
These young fellows may have hearts of gold, but their 
real manhood was overlaid with a veneer of rudeness 
that could not commend them to the admiration of 
cultivated persons. Inside the station was another 
group of young men in khaki who were quiet, dignified, 
and decorous. The contrast between the two groups 
was most striking, and the bystanders were led to 
wonder whether it requires a world-war to teach our 
young men manners and whether the schools and homes 
have abdicated in favor of the cantonment in the teach- 
ing of deportment. In the schools and the homes that 
are to be in our good land we may well hope that 

[14] 



PAST AS RELATED TO PRESENT 

decorum will be emphasized and magnified ; for decorum 
is evermore the fruitage of intellectuality and genuine 
culture. 

As a nation, we have been prodigal of our resources 
and, especially, of our time. We have failed to regard 
our leisure hours as a liability but, like the lotus eaters, 
have dallied in the realm of pleasure. Like children 
at play, we have gone on our pleasure-seeking ways 
all heedless of the clock, and, when misfortune came 
and necessity arose, many of us were unwilling and more 
of us unable to engage in the work of production. In 
some localities legislation was invoked to urge us toward 
the fields and gardens. We have shown ourselves a 
wasteful people, and in the wake of our wastefulness 
have followed a dismal train of disasters, cold, hunger, 
and many another form of distress. Deplore and re- 
pent of our prodigality as we may, the effects abide 
to remind us of our decline from the high plane of 
industry, frugality, and conservation of leisure. Nor 
can we hope to avert a repetition of this crisis unless 
education comes in to guide our minds and hands 
aright. 

Again, we have been wont to estimate men by what 
they have rather than by what they are, and to regard 
as of value only such things as are quoted in the mar- 
kets. Wall Street takes precedence over the university 
and to the millionaire we accord the front seat even 
in some of our churches. We accept the widow's mite 
but do not inscribe her name upon the roll of honor. 
We give money prizes for work in our schools and thus 
strive to commercialize the things of the mind and of 
the spirit. We have laid waste our forests, impover- 
ished our fields, and defiled our landscapes to stimulate 

[15] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

increased activity in our clearing-houses. Like Jason 
of old, we have wandered far in quest of the golden 
fleece. We welcome the rainbow, not for its beauty 
but for the bag of gold at its end. We seek to scale 
the heights of Olympus by stairways of gold, fondly 
nursing the conceit that, once we have scaled these 
heights, we shall be equal to the gods. 

To indulge in even such a brief review of some of the 
weak places and defections of society is not an agree- 
able task, but diagnosis must necessarily precede the 
application of remedies. If we are to reconstruct edu- 
cation in order to effect a reconstruction of society 
we must know our problem in advance, that we may 
proceed in a rational way. Reconstruction cannot be 
made permanently effective by haphazard methods. 
We must visualize clearly the objectives of our en- 
deavors in order to obviate wrong methods and futility. 
We must have the whole matter laid bare before our 
eyes or we shall not get on in the work of reconstruction. 
It were more agreeable to dwell upon our achievements, 
and they are many, but the process of reconstruction 
has to do with the affected parts. These must be our 
special care, these the realm for our kindly surgery 
and the arts of healing. We need to become acutely 
conscious that the present will become the past and that 
there will be a new present which will take on the same 
qualities that now characterize our present. We need 
to feel that the future will look back to our present 
and commend or condemn according to the practices 
of this generation. And the only way to make a sane 
and right future is to create a sane and right present. 



[16] 



CHAPTER THREE 

The Future as Related to the Present 

IN planning a journey the one constant is the desti- 
nation. All the other elements are variable, and, 
therefore, subordinate. So, also, in planning a course 
of study. The qualities to be developed through the 
educational processes are the constants, while the agen- 
cies by which these qualities are to be attained are 
subject to change. The course of study provides for 
the school activities for the child for a period of twelve 
years, and it is altogether pertinent to inquire what 
qualities we hope to develop by means of these school 
activities. To do this effectively we must visualize the 
pupil when he emerges from the school period and ask 
ourselves what qualities we hope to have him possess 
at the close of this period. If we decide upon such 
qualities as imagination, initiative, aspiration, appre- 
ciation, courage, loyalty, reverence, a sense of responsi- 
bility, integrity, and serenity, we have discovered some 
of the constants toward which all the work of the twelve 
years must be directed. In planning a course of study 
toward these constants we do not restrict the scope 
of the pupil's activities ; quite the reverse. * We thus 
enlarge the concept of education both for himself and 
his teachers and emphasize the fact that education is 
a continuous process and may not be marked by grades 
or subjects. For the teachers we establish goals of 
school endeavor and thus unify and articulate all their 
efforts. We focus their attention upon the pupil as 
they would all wish to see him when he completes the 
work of the school. 

If children are asked why they go to school, nine 

[17] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

out of ten, perhaps, will reply that they go to school to 
learn arithmetic, grammar, geography, and history. 
Asked what their big purpose is in teaching, probably 
three out of five teachers will answer that they are 
actuated by a desire to cause their pupils to know 
arithmetic, grammar, geography, and history. One of 
the other five teachers may echo something out of her 
past accumulations to the eff^ect that her work is the 
training for citizenship, and the fifth will say quite 
frankly that she is groping about, all the while, search- 
ing for the answer to that very question. It would 
be futile to ask the children why they desire knowledge 
of these subjects and there might be hazard in pro- 
pounding the same question to the three teachers. 
They teach arithmetic because it is in the course of 
study ; it is in the course of study because the super- 
intendent put it there; and the superintendent put it 
there because some other superintendent has it in his 
course of study. 

Now arithmetic may, in reality, be one of the best 
things a child can study ; but the child takes it be- 
cause the teacher prescribes it, and the teacher takes 
it on faith because the superintendent takes it on 
faith and she cannot go counter to the dictum of the 
superintendent. Besides, it is far easier to teach arith- 
metic than it would be to challenge the right of this 
subject to a place in the course of study. To most 
people, including many teachers, arithmetic is but a 
habit of thinking. They have been contracting this 
habit through all the years since the beginning of their 
school experience, until now it seems as inevitable as 
any other habitual affair. It is quite as much a habit 
of their thinking as eating, sleeping, or walking. If 
there were no arithmetic, they argue subconsciously, 
[18] 



FUTURE AS RELATED TO PRESENT 

there could be no school ; for arithmetic and school are 
synonymous. Again, let it be said that there is no 
thought here of inveighing against arithmetic or any 
other subject of the curriculum. Not arithmetic in 
itself, but the arithmetic habit constitutes the incubus, 
the evil spirit that needs to be exorcised. 

This arithmetic habit had its origin, doubtless, in 
the traditional concept of knowledge as power. An 
adage is not easily controverted or eradicated. The 
copy-books of the fathers proclaimed boldly that knowl- 
edge is power, and the children accepted the dictum as 
inviolable. If it were true that knowledge is power, 
the procedure of the schools and the course of conduct 
of the teachers during all these years would have 
ample justification. The entire process would seem 
simplicity itself. So soon as we acquire knowledge we 
should have power — and power is altogether desirable. 
The trouble is that we have been confusing knowledge 
and wisdom in the face of the poet's declaration that 
" Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, have 
ofttimes no connection." Our experience should have 
taught us that many people who have much knowledge 
are relatively impotent for the reason that they have 
not learned how to use their knowledge in the way of 
generating power. Gasoline is an inert substance, but, 
under well-understood conditions, it affords power. 
Water is not power, but man has learned how to use it 
in generating power. Knowledge is convenient and 
serviceable, but its greatest utility lies in the fact that 
it can be employed in producing power. 

We are prone to take our judgments ready-made and 
have been relying upon the copy-books of the fathers 
rather than our own reasoning powers. If we had 
only learned in childhood the distinction between knowl- 

[19] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

edge and wisdom; if we had learned that knowledge is 
not power but merely potential; and if we had learned 
that knowledge is but the means to an end and not the 
end itself, we should have been spared many a delusion 
and our educational sky would not now be so overcast 
with clouds. We have been proceeding upon the agree- 
able assumption that arithmetic, geography, and history 
are the goals of every school endeavor, the Ultima 
Thule of every educational quest. The child studies 
arithmetic, is subjected to an examination that may 
represent the bent or caprice of the teacher, manages 
to struggle through seventy per cent of the answers, 
is promoted to the next higher grade, and, thereupon, 
starts on his journey around another circle. And we 
call this education. These processes constitute the 
mechanics of education, but, in and of themselves, they 
are not education. One of the big problems of the 
school today is to emancipate both teachers and pupils 
from the erroneous notion that they are. 

The child does not go to school to learn arithmetic 
and spelling and grammar. The goal to be attained 
is far higher and better than either of these or all com- 
bined. The study of arithmetic may prove a highly 
profitable means, never the end to be gained. This 
statement will be boldly challenged by the traditional 
teacher, but it is so strongly intrenched in logic and 
sound pedagogy that it is impregnable. The goal 
might, possibly, be reached without the aid of arithme- 
tic, but, if a knowledge of this subject will facilitate 
the process, then, of course, it becomes of value and 
should be used. Let us assume, for the moment, that 
the teacher decides to set up thoroughness as one of the 
large objectives of her teaching. While she may be 
able to reach this goal sooner by means of arithmetic, 
[20] 



FUTURE AS RELATED TO PRESENT 

no one will contend that arithmetic is indispensable. 
Nor, indeed, will any one contend that arithmetic is 
comparable to thoroughness as a goal to be attained. 
If the teacher's constant aim is thoroughness, she will 
achieve even better results in the arithmetic and will 
inculcate habits in her pupils that serve them in good 
stead throughout life. For the quality of thoroughness 
is desirable in every activity of life, and we do well to 
emphasize every study and every activity of the school 
that helps in the development of this quality. 

If the superintendent were challenged to adduce a 
satisfactory reason why he has not written thorough- 
ness into his course of study he might be hard put to 
it to justify the omission. He hopes, of course, that 
the quality of thoroughness will issue somehow from 
the study of arithmetic and science, but he lacks the 
courage, apparently, to proclaim this hope in print. 
He says that education is a spiritual process, while 
his course of study proves that he is striving to pro- 
duce mental acrobats, relegating the spiritual qualities 
to the rank of by-products. His course of study shows 
conclusively that he thinks that knowledge is power. 
Once disillusion him on this point and his course of 
study will cease to be to him the sacrosanct affair it 
has always appeared and he will no longer look upon 
it as a sort of sacrilege to inject into this course of 
study some elements that seem to violate the sanctities 
of tradition. 

Advancing another brief step, we may try to imagine 
the superintendent's suggesting to the teachers at the 
opening of the school year that they devote the year to 
inculcating in their pupils the qualities of thoroughness, 
self-control, courage, and reverence. The faces of the 
teachers, at such a proposal, would undoubtedly afford 

[21] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

opportunity for an interesting study and the linguistic 
reactions of some of them would be forcible to the point 
of picturesqueness. The traditional teachers would 
demand to know by what right he presumed to impose 
upon them such an unheard-of program. Others might 
welcome the suggestion as a means of relief from irri- 
tating and devastating drudgery. In their quaint inno- 
cence and guilelessness their souls would revel in rain- 
bow dreams of preachments, homilies, and wise counsel 
that would cause the qualities of self-control and rever- 
ence to spring into being full-grown even as Minerva 
from the head of Jove. 

But their beatific visions would dissolve upon hearing 
the superintendent name certain teachers to act as a 
committee to determine and report upon the studies 
that would best serve the purpose of generating rever- 
ence, and another committee to select the studies that 
would most effectively stimulate and develop self-con- 
trol, and so on through the list. It is here that we 
find the crux of the whole matter. Here the program 
collides with tradition and with stereotyped habits of 
thinking. Many superintendents and teachers will con- 
tend that such a problem is impossible of solution be- 
cause no one has ever essayed such a task. No one, 
they argue, has ever determined what subjects will 
effectually generate the specific qualities self-control or 
reverence, no one has ever discovered what school 
studies will function in given spiritual qualities. Ac- 
cording to their course of reasoning nothing is possible 
that has not already been done. However, there are 
some progressive, dynamic superintendents and teachers 
who will welcome the opportunity to test their resource- 
fulness in seeking the solution of a problem tliat is 
both new and big. To these dynamic ones we must look 
[22] 



I 



FUTURE AS RELATED TO PRESENT 

for results and when this solution is evolved, the work 
of reconstruction will move on apace. 

Reverting, for the moment, to the subject of thor- 
oughness: it must be clear that this quality is worthy 
a place in the course of study because it is worthy 
the best efforts of the pupil. Furthermore, it is worthy 
the best efforts of the pupil because it is an important 
element of civilization. These statements all need reit- 
eration and emphasis to the end that they may become 
thoroughly enmeshed in the social consciousness. If 
we can cause people to think toward thoroughness 
rather than toward arithmetic or other school studies, 
we shall win the feeling that we are making progress. 
Thoroughness must be distinguished, of course, from a 
smattering knowledge of details that have no value. 
In the right sense thoroughness must be interpreted as 
the habit of mastery. We may well indulge the hope 
that the time will come when parents will invoke the 
aid of the schools to assist their children in acquiring 
this habit of mastery. When that time comes the 
schools will be working toward larger and higher ob- 
jectives and education will have become a spiritual 
process in reality. 

It will be readily conceded that the habit of mastery 
is a desirable quality in every vocation and in every 
avocation. It is a very real asset on the farm, in the 
factory, in legislative halls, in the offices of lawyer and 
physician, in the study, in the shop, and in the home. 
When mastery becomes habitual with people in all these 
activities society will thrill with the pulsations of new 
life and civilization will rise to a higher level. But 
how may the child acquire this habit of mastery? On 
what meat shall this our pupil feed that he may become 
master of himself, master of all his powers, and master 

[23] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

of every situation in which he finds himself? How 
shall he win that mastery that will enable him to inter- 
pret every obstacle as a new challenge to his powders, 
and to translate temporary defeat into ultimate vic- 
tory? How may he enter into such complete sense of 
mastery that he will not quail in the presence of diffi- 
culties, that he will never display the white flag or the 
white feather, that he will ever show forth the spirit 
of Henley's Invictus, and that nothing short of death 
may avail to absolve him from his obligations to his 
high standards? 

These questions are referred, with all proper respect, 
to the superintendent, the principal, and the teachers, 
whose province it is to vouchsafe satisfactory answers. 
If they tell us that arithmetic will be of assistance 
in the way of inculcating this habit of mastery, then 
we shall hail arithmetic with joyous acclaim and accord 
it a place of honor in the school regime, — but only 
as an auxiliary, only as a means to the great end of 
mastery. If they assure us that science will be equally 
serviceable in our enterprise of developing mastery, then 
we shall give to science an equally hearty welcome. 
However, we shall emphasize the right to stipulate that, 
in the course of study, the capitals shall be reserved 
for the big objective thoroughness, of the habit of 
mastery, and that the means be given in small letters 
and as sub-heads. 

We may indulge in the conceit that a flag floats at 
the summit of a lofty and more or less rugged eleva- 
tion. The youth who essays the task of reaching that 
flag will need to reinforce his strength at supply sta- 
tions along the way. If we style one of these stations 
arithmetic, it will be evident, at once, that this station 
is a subsidiary element in the enterprise and not the 

[ 24 ] 



FUTURE AS RELATED TO PRESENT 

goal, for that is the flag at the top. These supply 
stations are useful in helping the youth to reach his 
goal. We may conceive of many of these stations, 
such as algebra, or history, or Greek, or Chinese. 
Whatever their names, they are all but means to an 
end and when that end has been attained the youth 
can afford to forget them, in large part, save only in 
gratitude for their help in enabling him to win the 
goal of thoroughness. 

The child eats beefsteak because it is palatable; the 
mother prescribes beefsteak and prepares it carefully 
with the child's health as the goal of her interests. 
Moreover, she has a more vital interest in beefsteak 
because she is thinking of health as the goal. For an- 
other child, she may prescribe eggs and, for still an- 
other, m.ilk or oatmeal, according to each one's needs. 
Health is the big goal and these foods are the supply 
stations along the way. The physician must assist in 
determining what articles of food will best serve the 
purpose and to this end he must cooperate with the 
mother in knowing his patients. He must have knowl- 
edge of foods and must know how to adapt means to 
ends, never losing sight of the real goal. The inference 
is altogether obvious. A superintendent must write 
the prescription in the form of a course of study and he 
may not with impunity mistake a supply station for 
the goal. He must have knowledge of the pupils and 
know their individual needs and native interests. Hav- 
ing gained this knowledge, he will supply abundant 
electives in order to assist each child in the best pos- 
sible way toward the goal. 

If, then, the relation between major ends and minor 
means has been made clear, we are ready for the state- 
ment that these major ends may be made the common 

[25] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

goals of endeavor in the schools of all lands. Thor- 
oughness is quite as necessary in the rice fields of 
China as in the wheat fields of America, as necessary 
in the banks of Rome as in the banks of New York, 
quite as essential to mercantile transactions in Cape 
Town as in Chicago, and quite as essential to home 
life in Tokyo as in San Francisco. If these big objec- 
tives are set up in the schools of all countries pupils, 
teachers, and people will come to think in unison and 
thus their ways will converge and they will come to act 
in unison. The same high purposes will actuate and 
animate society as a whole and this, in turn, will make 
for a higher type of civilization and accelerate prog- 
ress toward unity in school procedure. 



[26] 



CHAPTER FOUR 

Integeity 

INTEGRITY connotes many qualities that are neces- 
sary to success in the high art of right and rational 
living and that are conspicuous, therefore, in society 
of high grade. It is an inclusive quality, and is, in 
reality, a federation of qualities that are esteemed essen- 
tial to a highly developed civilization. The term, like 
the word from which it is derived, integer, signifies 
completeness, wholeness, entirety, soundness, rectitude, 
unimpaired state. It implies no scarification, no blem- 
ish, no unsoundness, no abrasion, no disfigurement, no 
distortion, no defect. In ordinary parlance integrity 
and honesty are regarded as synonyms, but a close 
analysis discovers honesty to be but one of the many 
manifestations of integrity. Lincoln displayed honesty 
in returning the pennies by way of rectifying a mis- 
take, but that act, honest as it was, did not engage 
all his integrity. This big quality manifested itself 
at Gettysburg, in the letter to Mrs. Bixby, in visiting 
the hospitals to comfort and cheer the wounded soldiers, 
and in his magnanimity to those who maligned him. 

In every individual the inward quality determines 
the outward conduct in all its ramifications, whether 
in his speech, in his actions, or in his attitude toward 
other individuals. It is quite as true in a pedagogical 
sense as in the scriptural sense that " Men do not 
gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles," and, also, 
that " By their fruits ye shall know them." The 
stream does not rise higher than the source. What 
a man is doing and how he is doing it tells us what 

[27] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

he is. When we would appraise a man's character we 
take note of his habits, his daily walk and conversation 
in all his relations to his fellows. If we find a blemish 
in his conduct, we arrive at the judgment that his 
character is not without blemish. In short, his habitual 
acts and speech, in the marts of trade, in the office, 
in the field, in the home, and in the forum betoken the 
presence or absence of integrity. It follows, then, as 
a corollary that, if we hope to have in the stream of 
life that we call society the elements that make for a 
high type of civilization we must have integrity at the 
source; and with this quality at the source these ele- 
ments will inevitably issue forth into the life currents. 
This being true, we have clear warrant for the affirma- 
tion that integrity is a worthy goal toward which we 
do well to direct the activities of the school. 

Integrity in its large import implies physical sound- 
ness, mental soundness, and moral soundness. In time 
we may come to realize that physical soundness and 
mental soundness are but sequences of moral sound- 
ness, or, in other words, that a sound body and a sound 
mind are manifestations of a right spirit. But, for 
the present, we may waive this consideration and think 
of the three phases of integrity — physical, mental 
and moral. If, at the age of eighteen years, the boy 
or girl emerges from school experience sound in body, 
in mind, and in spirit, society will affirm that education 
has been effective. To develop young persons of this 
tj^pe is a work that is worthy the best efforts of the 
home, the school, the church and society, nor can any 
one of these agencies shift or shirk responsibility. The 
school has a large share of this responsibility, and those 
whose duty it is to formulate a course of study may 
well ask themselves what procedure of the school will 

[ 28 ] 



INTEGRITY 

best assist the child to attain integrity by means of the 
school activities. 

In our efforts to generate this quality of integrity, 
or, indeed, any quality, it must be kept clearly in mind 
every day and every hour of the day that the children 
with whom we have to do are not all alike. On the 
contrary, they differ, and often differ widely, in respect 
of mental ability, environment, inheritances, and native 
disposition. If they were all alike, it would be most 
unfortunate, but we could treat them all alike in our 
teaching and so fix and perpetuate their likeness to one 
another. Some teachers have heard and read a hundred 
times that our teaching should attach itself to the 
native tendencies of the child; yet, in spite of this, the 
teacher proceeds as if all children were alike and all 
possessed the same native tendencies. Herein lies a 
part of the tragedy of our traditional, stereotyped, 
race-track teaching. We assume that children are all 
alike, that they are standardized children, and so we 
prescribe for them a standardized diet and serve it by 
standardized methods. If we were producing bricks 
instead of embryo men and women our procedure would 
be laudable, for, in the making of bricks, uniformity 
is a prime necessity. Each brick must be exactly like 
every other brick, and, in consequence, we use for each 
one ingredients of the same quality and in like amount, 
and then subject them all to precisely the same treat- 
ment. 

This procedure is well enough in the case of inanimate 
bricks, but it is far from well enough in the case of 
animate, sentient human beings. It would be a calamity 
to have duplicate human beings, and yet the traditional 
school seems to be doing its utmost to produce dupli- 
cates. The native tendencies of one boy impel him 

[29] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

toward the realms of nature, but, all heedless of this 
big fact, we bind him hard and fast to some academic 
post with traditional bonds of rules and regulations 
and then strive to coerce him into partaking of our 
traditional pabulum. His inevitable rebellion against 
this regime we style incorrigibility, or stupidity, and 
then by main strength and authority strive to reduce 
him to submission and, failing in this, we banish him 
from the school branded for life. Our treatment of 
this boy is due to the fact that another boy in the 
school is endowed with other native tendencies and the 
teacher is striving to fashion both boys in the same 
mold. 

In striving to inculcate the quality of integrity, 
wholeness, soundness, rectitude in Sam Brown our aim 
is to develop this specific boy into the best Sam Brown 
possible and not to try to make of him another Harry 
Smith. We need one best Sam Brown and one best 
Harry Smith but not two Harry Smiths. If we try 
to make our Sam Brown into a second Harry Smith, 
society is certain to be the loser to the value of Sam 
Brown. We want to see Sam Brown realize all his 
possibilities to the utmost, for only so will he win integ- 
rity. Better a complete Sam Brown, though only 
half the size of Harry Smith, than an incomplete Sam 
Brown of any size. If the native tendencies of Sam 
Brown lead toward nature, certain it is that by denying 
him the stimulus of nature study, we shall restrict his 
growth and render him less than complete. If we 
would produce a complete Sam Brown, if we would 
have him attain integrity, we must see to it that the 
process of teaching engages all his powers and does 
not permit some of these powers to lie fallow. 

If Sam Brown is a nature boy, no amount of coercion 

[30] 



INTEGRITY 

can transform him into a mathematics boy. True he 
may, in time, gain proficiency in mathematics, but only 
if he is led into the field of mathematics through the 
gateway of nature. He may ultimately achieve dis- 
tinction as a writer, but not unless his pen becomes 
facile in depicting nature. Unless his native interests 
are taken fully into account and all his powers are en- 
listed in the enterprise of education toward integrity, 
he will never become the Sam Brown he might have 
been and the teacher cannot win special comfort in the 
reflection that she has helped to produce a cripple. We 
can better afford to depart from the beaten path, and 
even do violence to the sanctity of the course of study, 
than to lose or deform Sam Brown. If his soul yearns 
for green fields and budding trees, it is cruel if not crim- 
inal to fail to cater to this yearning. And only by cul- 
tivating and ministering to this native disposition can 
we hope to be of service in aiding him to achieve 
integrity. 

It needs to be emphasized that integrity signifies 
one hundred per cent, nothing less, and that such a 
goal is quite worth working toward. On the physical 
side, the problem looms large before us. Since we can 
produce thoroughbred live stock that scores one hun- 
dred per cent, we ought to produce one hundred per 
cent men and women. In a great university, physical 
examinations covering a period of seventeen years dis- 
covered one physically perfect young woman and not 
one physically perfect young man. Our live stock 
records make a better showing than this. For years 
we have been quoting " a sound mind in a sound body " 
in various languages but have failed in a large degree 
to achieve sound bodies. Nor, indeed, may we hope 
to win this goal until we become aroused to the im- 

[31] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

portance of physical training in its widest import for 
all young people and not merely for the already physi- 
cally fit, who constitute the ball teams. If the child 
is physically sound at the age of six, he ought to be 
no less so at the age of eighteen. If he is not so, there 
must have been some blundering in the course of his 
school life, either on the part of the school itself or 
of the home. When we set up physical soundness as 
the goal of our endeavors and this ideal becomes en- 
meshed in the consciousness of all citizens, then activi- 
ties toward this end will inevitably ensue. Physical 
training will be made an integral part of the course 
of study, medical and dental inspection will obtain both 
in the school and in the home, insanitary conditions will 
no longer be tolerated, intemperance in every form 
will disappear, and every child will receive the same 
careful nurture that we now bestow upon the prize win- 
ners at our live-stock exhibition. The thinking of 
people will be intent toward the one hundred per cent 
standard and, in consequence, they will strive in unison 
to achieve this goal. 

The large amount of incompleteness that is to be 
found among the products of our schools may be traced, 
in a large measure, to our irrational and fictitious 
procedure in the matter of grading. We must keep 
records, of course, but it will be recalled that in the 
parable of the talents men were commended or con- 
demned according to the use they made of the talents 
they had and were not graded according to a fixed 
standard. Seeing that seventy-five per cent will win 
him promotion, the boy devotes only so much of himself 
to the enterprise as will enable him to attain the goal 
and directs the remainder of himself to adventures 
along the line of his native tendencies. The only way 

[32] 



INTEGRITY 

bj which we can develop a complete Sam Brown is so 
to arrange matters that the whole of Sam Brown is 
enlisted in the work. Otherwise we shall have one part 
of the boy working in one direction and another part 
in another direction, and that plan does not make for 
completeness. We must enlist the whole boy or we 
shall fail to develop a complete boy. If we can find 
some study to which he will devote himself unreservedly, 
then we may well rejoice and can afford to let the tra- 
ditional subjects of the course of study wait. We 
are interested in Sam Brown just now and he is far more 
important than some man-made course of study. We 
are interested, too, in one hundred per cent of Sam 
Brown, and not in three fourths of him. If arithmetic 
will not enlist all of this boy and nature will enlist all 
of him, then arithmetic must be held in abeyance in the 
interest of the whole boy. 

The seventy-five per cent standard is repudiated by 
the world of affairs even though it is emphasized by the 
school. Seventy-five per cent of accuracy will not do in 
the transactions of the bank. The accounts must 
balance to the penny. The figures are right or else 
they are wrong. There is no middle ground. In the 
school the boy solves three problems but fails with the 
fourth. None the less he wins the goal of promotion. 
Not so at the bank. He is denied admission because of 
his failure with the fourth problem. Seventy-five will 
not do in joining the spans of the great bridge across 
the river. We must have absolute accuracy if we would 
avoid a wreck with its attendant horrors. The drug- 
gist must not fall below one hundred per cent in com- 
pounding the prescription unless he would face a charge 
of criminal negligence. The wireless operator must 
transcribe the message with absolute accuracy or dire 

[33] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

consequences may ensue. The railway crew must read 
the order without a mistake if they would save life and 
property from disaster. 

But, in the school, the teachers rejoice and congrat- 
ulate one another when their pupils achieve a grade of 
seventy-five. It matters nothing, apparently, that this 
grade of seventy-five is a fictitious thing with no basis 
in logic or reason, in short a mere habit that has no 
justification save in tradition, and that, in very truth, 
it is a concession to inaccuracy and ignorance. When 
we promote the boy for solving three out of four prob- 
lems we virtually say to him that the fourth problem 
is negligible and he may as well forget all about it. 
Sometimes a teacher grieves over a grade of seventy- 
three, never realizing that another teacher might have 
given to that same paper a grade of eighty-three. We 
proclaim education to be a spiritual process, and 
then, in some instances, employ mechanics to admin- 
ister this process. By what process of reason- 
ing the superintendent or the teacher arrives at the 
judgment that seventy -five is good enough is yet to be 
explained. Our zeal for grades and credits indicates 
a greater interest in the label than in the contents of the 
package. 

Teaching is a noble work if only it is directed toward 
worthy goals. Nothing in the way of human endeavor 
can be more inspiring than the work of striving to inte- 
grate boys and girls. The mere droning over geog- 
raphy, and history, and grammar is petty by com- 
parison. And yet all these studies and many others 
may be found essential factors in the work and they 
will be learned with greater thoroughness as means 
to a great end than as ends in themselves. The supply 
stations take on a new meaning to the boy who is 
[34] 



INTEGRITY 

yearning to reach the flag at the top. But it needs 
to be said here that the traditional superintendent 
and teacher will greet this entire plan with a supercilious 
smile. They will call it visionary, unpractical, and 
idealistic — then return to their seventy-five per cent 
regime with the utmost complacency and self-satisfac- 
tion. It is ever so with the traditional teacher. He 
seeks to be let alone, that he may go on his com- 
placent way without hindrance. To him every inno- 
vation is an interference, if not a positive imperti- 
nence. But, in spite of the traditional teacher, the 
school is destined to rise to a higher level and enter 
upon a more rational procedure. And we must look 
to the dynamic teacher to usher in the renaissance — 
the teacher who has the vitality and the courage to 
break away from tradition and write integrity into the 
course of study as one of the big goals and think all 
the while toward integrity, physical, mental, and moral. 



[35] 



CHAPTER FIVE 

Appreciation 

EDUCATION may be defined as the process of rais- 
ing the level of appreciation. This definition will 
stand the ultimate test. Here is bed-rock; here is the 
foundation upon which we may predicate appreciation 
as a goal in every rational system of education. Appre- 
ciation has been defined as a judgment of values, a 
feeling for the essential worth of things, and, as such, 
it lies at the very heart of real education. It must 
be so or civilization cannot be. Without appreciation 
there can be no distinction between the coarse and the 
fine, none between the high and the low, none between 
the beautiful and the ugly, none between the sublime 
and the commonplace, none between zenith and nadir. 
Hence, appreciation is inevitable in every course of 
study, whether the authorities have the courage to 
proclaim it or not. Just why it has not been written 
into the course of study is inexplicable, seeing that it 
is fundamental in the educational process. It is far 
from clear why the superintendent permits teachers 
and pupils to go on their way year after year thinking 
that arithmetic is their final destination, or why he 
fails to take the tax-payers into his confidence and 
explain to them that appreciation is one of the lode- 
stars toward which the schools are advancing. In his 
heart he hopes that the schools may achieve appre- 
ciation, and it would be the part of frankness and fair- 
ness for him to reveal this hope to his teachers and to 
all others concerned. 

It is common knowledge that business affairs do not 
require more than ten pages of arithmetic and it would 

[ 36 ] 



APPRECIATION 

seem only fair that the study of the other pages should 
be justified. These other pages must serve some useful 
purpose in the thinking of those who retain them, and, 
certainly, no harm would ensue from a revelation of this 
purpose. If they are studied as a means to some high 
end, they will prove no less important after this fact 
has been explained. We may need more arithmetic 
than we have, but it is our due to be informed why 
we need it, to what use it is to be put. These things 
we have a right to know, and no superintendent, who is 
charged with the responsibility of making the course 
of study, has a right to withhold the information. If 
he does not know the explanation of the course of study 
he has devised, he ought to make known that fact and 
throw himself " on the mercy of the court." 

In these days of conservation and elimination of waste 
every subject that seeks admission to the course of study 
should be challenged at the door and be made to show 
what useful purpose it is to serve. Nor should any 
subject be admitted on any specious pretext. If there 
are subjects that are better adapted to the high pur- 
poses of education than the ones we are now using, 
then, by all means, let us give them a hearty welcome. 

Above all, we should be careful not to retain a sub- 
ject unless it has a more valid passport than old age 
to justify its retention. If Chinese will help us win 
the goal of appreciation more effectively than Latin, 
then, by all means, we should make the substitution. 
But, in doing so, we must exercise care not to be carried 
away by a yearning for novelty. Least of all should 
any subject be admitted to the course of study that 
does not have behind it something more substantial 
and enduring than whim or caprice. 

The subjects that avail in generating and stimulating 

[37] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

the growth of appreciation are many and of great 
variety. Nor are they all found in the proverbial 
course of study of the schools. When the boy first 
really sees an ear of corn from another viewpoint than 
the economic, he finds it eloquent of the marvelous 
adaptations of nature. From being a mere ear of 
corn it becomes a revelation of design and beauty. 
No change has taken place in the ear of corn, but a 
most important change has been wrought in the boy. 
Such a change is so subtle, so delicate, and so intangible 
that it cannot be measured in terms of per cents; but 
it is no less real for all that. It is a spiritual process 
and, therefore, aptly illustrates the accepted definition 
of education. Though it defies analysis and the rule 
of thumb, the boy is conscious of it and can say with 
the man who was born blind, " One thing I know, that, 
whereas I was blind, now I see," and no cabalistic marks 
in a grade-book can express the value of the change 
indicated by that statement. 

The sluggard deems the sunrise an impertinence be- 
cause it disturbs his morning slumber; but such a 
change may be wrought in him as to cause him to stand 
in reverence before the very thing he once condemned. 
The sunrise, once an affront, is now nothing less than a 
miracle, and he stands in the sublime presence with 
uncovered and lowered head. He is a reverent witness 
of the re-birth of the world. An hour ago there was 
darkness ; now there is light. An hour ago the world 
was dead ; now it is gloriously alive. An hour ago there 
was silence ; now there is sound of such exquisite quality 
as to ravish the soul with delight. As the first beams 
of sunlight come streaming over the hills, ten thousand 
birds join in a mighty chorus of welcome to the new- 
born day and the world is flooded with song; and the 
[38] 



APPRECIATION 

whilom sluggard thrills under the spell of the scene and 
feels himself a part of the world that is vibrant with 
music. Can it be denied that this man is all the better 
citizen for his ability to appreciate the wonderfulness 
of a sunrise? 

But while we extol and magnify the quality of appre- 
ciation, it is well to note that it cannot be superinduced 
by any imperial mandate nor does it spring into being 
at the behest of didacticism. It can be caught but 
not taught. Indeed, it is worthy of general observa- 
tion that the choice things which young people receive 
from the schools, colleges, and normal schools are 
caught and not taught, however much the teachers may 
plume themselves upon their ability to impart instruc- 
tion. Education, at its best, is a process of inocula- 
tion. The teacher is an important factor in this pro- 
cess of generating situations that render inoculation 
far more easy ; and we omit one of the most vital things 
in education when we refer only to the teacher's ability 
to " impart instruction." The pupil gets certain 
things in that room, but the teacher does not give them. 
The teacher's function is to create situations in which 
the spirit of the pupil will become inoculated with the 
germs of truth in all its aspects. If he could give 
the things that the pupils get, then all would share alike 
in the distribution. If the teacher could impart in- 
struction, he certainly would not fail to lift all his 
pupils over the seventy-five per cent hurdle. 

If instruction or knowledge could be imparted, educa- 
tion would no longer be a spiritual process but rather 
one of driving the boy into a corner, imparting such 
instruction as the teacher might decree and keeping on 
until the point of saturation was reached or the supply 
of instruction became exhausted, when the trick would 

[39] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

be done. The process would be as simple as pouring 
water from one vessel into another. Sometimes the 
teacher of literature strives to engender appreciation in 
a pupil by rhapsodizing over some passage. She reads 
the passage in a frenzy of simulated enthusiasm, with 
a quaver in her voice and moisture in her eyes, only to 
find, at the end, that her patient has fallen asleep. 
Appreciation cannot be generated in such fashion. 
The boy cannot light his torch of appreciation at a 
mere phosphorescent glow. There must be heat behind 
the light or there can be no ignition. The boy senses 
the fictitious at once and cannot react to what he 
knows to be spurious. Only the genuine can win his 
interest. 

Napoleon Bonaparte once said that no one can gaze 
into the starry sky at night for five minutes and not 
believe in the existence of God. But to people who 
lack such appreciation the night sky is devoid of sig- 
nificance. There are teachers who never go forth to 
revel in the glories of this star-lit masterpiece of crea- 
tion, because, forsooth, they are too busy grading 
papers in literature. Such a teacher is not likely to 
be the cause of a spiritual ignition in her pupils, for 
she herself lacks the divine fire of appreciation. If she 
only possessed this quality no words would be needed 
to reveal its presence to the boy ; he would know it even 
as the homing-pigeon knows its course. When the 
spirits of teacher and pupils become merged as they 
must become in all true teaching, the boy will find him- 
self in possession of this spiritual quality. He knows 
that he has it, the teacher knows that he has it, and his 
associates know that he has it, and one and all know 
that it is well worth having. 

It is related of Keats that in reading Spenser he 

[ 40 ] 



APPRECIATION 

was thrown into a paroxysm of delight over the ex- 
pression " sea-shouldering whales." The churl would 
not give a second thought to the phrase, or, indeed, a 
first one; but the man of appreciation finds in it a 
source of pleasure. Arlo Bates speaks with enthusiasm 
of the word " highly " as used in the Gettysburg Speech, 
and the teacher's work reaches a high point of ex- 
cellence when it has given to the pupil such a feeling 
of appreciation as enables him to discover and rejoice 
in such niceties of literary expression. It widens the 
horizon of life to him and gives him a deeper and closer 
sympathy with every form and manifestation of life. 
Every phase of life makes an appeal to him, from bird 
on the wing to rushing avalanche; from the blade of 
grass to the boundless plains ; from the prattle of the 
child to the word miracles of Shakespeare; from the 
stable of Bethany to the Mount of Transfiguration. 

Geography lends itself admirably to the development 
of appreciation if it is well taught. Indeed, to develop 
appreciation seems to be the prime function of geog- 
raphy, and the marvel is that it has not been so pro- 
claimed. In this field geography finds a clear justi- 
fication, and the superintendent who sets forth appre- 
ciation as the end and geography as the means is certain 
to win the plaudits of many people who have long been 
wondering why there is so much geography in the pres- 
ent course of study. Certainly no appreciation can 
develop from the question and answer method, for no 
spiritual quality can thrive under such deadening con- 
ditions. If the questions emanated from the pupils, the 
situation would be improved, but such is rarely the case. 
Teaching is, in reality, a transfusion of spirit, and 
when this flow of spirit from teacher to pupil is un- 
impeded teaching is at high tide. When the subject is 

[41] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

artfully and artistically developed the effect upon the 
child is much the same as that of unrolling a great 
and beautiful picture. The Mississippi River can be 
taught as a great drama, from its rise in Lake Itasca 
to its triumphal entry into the Gulf. As it takes its 
way southward pine forests wave their salutes, then 
wheat fields, then corn fields, and, later, cotton fields. 
Then its tributaries may be seen coming upon the stage 
to help swell the mighty sweep of progress toward 
the sea. When geography is taught as a drama, appre- 
ciation is inevitable. 

The resourceful teacher can find a thousand dramas 
in the books on geography if she knows how to interpret 
the pages of the books, and with these inspiring dramas 
she can lift her pupils to the very pinnacle of apprecia- 
tion. Such tales are as fascinating as fairy stories and 
have the added charm of being true to the teachings 
of science. A raindrop seems a common thing, but cast 
in dramatic form it becomes of rare charm. It slides 
from the roof of the house and finds its way into the 
tiny rivulet, then into the brook, then into the river 
and thus finally reaches the sea. By the process of 
evaporation, it is transformed into vapor and is carried 
over the land by currents of air. As it comes into 
contact with colder currents, condensation ensues and 
then precipitation, and our raindrop descends to earth 
once more. Sinking into the soil at the foot of the 
tree it is taken up into the tree by capillary attraction, 
out through the branches and then into the fruit. Then 
comes the sunshine to ripen the fruit, and finally this 
fruit is harvested and borne to the market, whence it 
reaches the home. Here it is served at the breakfast 
table and the curtain of our drama goes down with our 
raindrop as orange- juice on the lip of the little girl. 

[ 42 ] 



APPRECIATION 

When we come to realize, in our enlarged vision, the 
possibilities of geography in fostering the quality of 
appreciation, our teaching of the subject will be changed 
and vitalized, our textbooks will be written from a 
different angle, and our pupils will receive a much larger 
return upon their investment of time and effort. The 
study of geography will be far less like the conning of 
a gazetteer or a city directory and more like a fas- 
cinating story. In our astronomical geography we 
shall make many a pleasing excursion into the far 
spaces and win stimulating glimpses into the infinities. 
In our physical geography we shall read marvelous 
stories that outrival the romances of Dumas and Hugo. 
And geography as a whole will reveal herself as the 
cherishing mother of us all, providing us with food, and 
drink, and shelter, and raiment, giving us poetry, and 
song, and story, and weaving golden fancies for the 
fabric of our daily dreams. 

And when, at length, through the agency of geog- 
raphy and the other means at hand, our young people 
have achieved the endowment of appreciation, life will 
be for them a fuller and richer experience and they will 
be better fitted to play their parts as intelligent, cul- 
tivated men and women. The gateways will stand wide 
open through which they can enter into the palace of 
life to revel in all its beauteous splendor. They will 
receive a welcome into the friendship of the worthy good 
and great of all ages. When they have gained an 
appreciation of the real meaning of literature, children 
who have become immortal will cluster about them and 
nestle close in their thoughts and affections, — Tiny 
Tim, Little Jo, Little Nell, Little Boy Blue, and Eppie. 
A visitor in Turner's studio once said to the artist, 
" Really, Mr. Turner, I can't see in nature the colors 

[43] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

you portray on canvas." Whereupon the artist re- 
plied, " Don't you wish you could? " When our pupils 
gain the ability to read and enjoy the message of the 
artist they will be able to hold communion with Raphael, 
Michael Angelo, Murillo, Rembrandt, Rosa Bonheur, 
Titian, Corot, Andrea del Sarto, Correggio, Fra An- 
gelico, and Ghiberti. In the realms of poetry they will 
be able to hold agreeable converse with Shelley, Keats, 
Southey, Mrs. Browning, Milton, Victor Hugo, Haw- 
thorne, Poe, and Shakespeare. And when the great 
procession of artists, poets, scientists, historians, 
dramatists, statesmen, and philanthropists file by to 
greet their gaze, entranced they will be able to applaud. 



[44] 



CHAPTER SIX 

Aspiration 

BROWNING says, " 'Tis not what man Does which 
exalts him, but what man Would do." The boy 
who has acquired the habit of wishing ardently in right 
directions is well on the way toward becoming educated. 
For earnest wishing precedes and conditions every 
achievement that is worthy the name. The man who 
does not wish does not achieve, and the man who does 
wish with persistency and consistency does not fail 
of achievement. Had Columbus not wished with con- 
suming ardor to circumnavigate the globe, he would 
never have encountered America. The Atlantic cable 
figured in the dreams and wishes of Cyrus W. Field long 
before even the preliminaries became realities. The 
wish evermore precedes the blueprint. It required 
forty-two years for Ghiberti to translate his dream 
into the reality that we know as the bronze doors of 
the Baptistry. But had there been no dreams there 
had been no bronze doors, and the world of art would 
have been the poorer. Every tunnel that pierces a 
mountain ; every bridge that spans a river ; every build- 
ing whose turrets pierce the sky ; every invention that 
lifts a burden from the shoulders of humanity; every 
reform that gilds the world with the glow of hope, 
was preceded by a wish whose gossamer strands were 
woven in a human brain. The Red Cross of today 
is but a dream of Henri Dunant realized and grown 
large. 

The student who scans the records of historical 
achievements and of the triumphs of art, music, science, 
literature, and philanthropy must realize that ardent 

[45] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

wishing is the condition precedent to further extension 
in any of these lines, and he must be aware, too, that 
the ranks of wishers must be recruited from among the 
children of our schools. Tiie yearning to achieve is 
the urge of the divine part of each one of us, and it 
naturally follows that whoever does not have this yearn- 
ing has been reduced to the plane of abnormality in that 
the divine part of him has been subordinated, sub- 
merged, stifled. Every fervent wish is a prayer that 
emanates from this divine part of us, and, in all rever- 
ence, it may be said that we help to answer our own 
prayers. When we wish ardently we work earnestly to 
cause our dreams to come true. We are told that 
every wish comes true if we only wish hard enough, 
and this statement finds abundant confirmation in the 
experiences of those who have achieved. 

The child's wishes have their origin and abode in his 
native interests and when we have determined what his 
wishes are, we have in hand the clue that will lead us 
to the inmost shrine of his native tendencies. This, 
as has been so frequently said, is the point of attack 
for all our teaching, this the particular point that is 
most sensitive to educational inoculation. If we find 
that the boy is eager to have a wireless outfit and is 
working with supreme intensity to crystallize his wish 
into tangible and workable form, quite heedless of clock 
hours, it were unkind to the point of cruelty and alto- 
gether unpedagogical to force him away from this 
congenial task into some other work that he will do 
only in a heartless and perfunctory way. If we yearn 
to have him study Latin, we shall do well to carry the 
wireless outfit over into the Latin field, for the boy will 
surely follow wherever this outfit leads. But if we 
destroy the wireless apparatus, in the hope that we 
[46] 



ASPIRATION 

shall thus stimulate his interest in Latin, the scar that 
we shall leave upon his spirit will rise in judgment 
against us to the end of life. The Latin may be 
desirable and necessary for the boy, but the wireless 
comes first in his wishes and we must go to the Latin 
by way of the wireless. 

It is the high privilege of the teacher to make and 
keep her pupils hungry, to stimulate in them an in- 
cessant ardent longing and yearning. This is her chief 
function. If she does this she will have great occasion 
to congratulate herself upon her own progress as well 
as theirs. If they are kept hungry, the sources of 
supply will not be able to elude them, for children have 
great facility and resourcefulness in the art of forag- 
ing. They readily discover the lurking places of the 
substantials as well as of the tid-bits and the sweets. 
They easily scent the trail of the food for which their 
spiritual or bodily hunger calls. The boy who yearns 
for the wireless need not be told where he may find 
screws, bolts, and hammer. The girl who yearns to 
paint will somehow achieve pigments, brushes, palette, 
and teachers. Appetite is the principal thing; the 
rest comes easy. The hungry child lays the whole 
world under tribute and cheerfully appropriates what- 
ever fits into his wishes. If his neighbor a mile distant 
has a book for which he feels a craving, the two-mile 
walk in quest of that book is invested with supreme 
charm, no matter what the weather. The apple may 
be hanging on the topmost bough, but the boy who 
is apple-hungry recks not of height nor of the laby- 
rinth of hostile branches. He gets the apple. As 
some one has said, " The soul reaches out for the cloak 
that fits it." 

There is nothing more pathetic in the whole realm 

[47] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

of school procedure than the frantic efforts of some 
teachers to feed their pupils instead of striving to 
create spiritual hunger. They require pupils to 
" take " so many problems, con so many words of 
spelhng, turn so many pages of a book on history, 
and then have them try to repeat in an agony of effort 
words from a book that they neither understand nor 
feel an interest in. The teacher would feed them 
whether they have any craving for food or not. Such 
teachers seem to be immune to the teachings of psychol- 
ogy and pedagogy ; they continue to travel the way 
their grandparents trod, spurning the practices of 
Pestalozzi, Froebel, and Francis Parker. They seem 
not to know that their pupils are predatory beings 
who are quite capable of ransacking creation to get the 
food for which they feel a craving. Not appreciating 
the nature of their pupils, they continue the process 
of feeding and stuffing them and thus fall into the fatal 
blunder of mistaking distention for education. 

Ruth McEnery Stuart has set out this whole matter 
most lucidly and cogently in her volume entitled Sonny. 
In this story the boy had four teachers who took no 
account of his aspirations and natural tendencies, but 
insisted upon feeding him traditional food by traditional 
methods. To them it mattered not that he was unlike 
other boys. What was suitable for them must be 
equally suitable for him. The story goes that a cer- 
tain school-master was expounding the passage " Be 
ye pure in heart." Turning to the boys he exclaimed, 
" Are you pure in heart? If you're not, I'll flog you 
till you are." So with Sonny's four teachers. If 
he had no appetite for their kind of food, they'd feed 
it to him till he had. But when the appetite failed 
to come as the result of their much feeding, they 
[48] 



ASPIRATION 

banished him to outer darkness with epithets expressive 
of their disappointment and disgust. They washed 
their hands of him and were glad to be rid of him. 

His next teacher, however, was different. She sensed 
his unlikeness to other boys and knew, instinctively, 
that his case demanded and deserved special treatment. 
She consulted his aspirations and appraised his native 
tendencies. In doing so, she discovered an embryo 
naturalist and thus became aware of the task to which 
she must address herself. So she spread her nets for 
all living and creeping things, for the beasts of the 
forest, the birds of the air, for plants, and flowers, and 
stones, — in short, for all the works of nature. In 
name she was his teacher, but in reality she was his 
pupil, and his other four teachers might have become 
members of the class with rich profit to themselves. In 
his examination for graduation the boy utterly con- 
founded and routed the members of the examining com- 
mittee by the profundity and breadth of his knowledge 
and they were glad to check his onslaught upon the 
ramparts of their ignorance by awarding him a diploma. 

It devolves upon the superintendent and teachers, 
therefore, to determine what studies already in the 
schools or what others that may be introduced will 
best serve the purpose of fostering aspiration. They 
cannot deny that this quality is an essential element 
in the spiritual composition of every well-conditioned 
child as well as of every rightly constituted man and 
woman. For aspiration means life, and the lack of 
aspiration means death. The man who lacks aspira- 
tion is static, dormant, lifeless, inert ; the man who has 
aspiration is dynamic, forceful, potent, regnant. Aspi- 
ration is the animating power that gives wings to the 
forces of life. It is the motive power that induces the 

[ 49 ] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

currents of life. The man who has aspiration yearns to 
climb to higher levels, to make excursions into the 
realms that lie beyond his present horizon, and to 
traverse the region that lies between what he now is 
and what he may become. It is the dove that goes forth 
from the ark to make discovery of the new lands that 
beckon. 

In a former book the author tried to set forth the in- 
fluence of the poet in generating aspiration, and in this 
attempt used the following words : " When he would 
teach men to aspire he writes Excelsior and so causes 
them to know that only he who aspires really lives. 
They see the groundling, the boor, the drudge, and the 
clown content to dwell in the valley amid the loaves and 
fishes of animal desires, while the man who aspires is 
struggling toward the heights whence he may gain an 
outlook upon the glories that are, know the throb and 
thrill of new life, and experience the swing and sweep 
of spiritual impulses. He makes them to know that the 
man who aspires recks not of cold, of storm, or of snow, 
if only he may reach the summit and lave his soul 
in the glory that crowns the marriage of earth and 
sky. They feel that the aspirant is but yielding obe- 
dience to the behests of his better self to scale the 
heights where sublimity dwells." 

It were useless for teachers to pooh-pooh this matter 
as visionary and inconsequential or to disregard aspira- 
tion as a vital factor in the scheme of education. This 
quality is fundamental and may not, therefore, be either 
disregarded or slurred. Fundamental qualities must 
engage the thoughtful attention of all true educators, 
for these fundamentals must constitute the ground- 
work of every reform in our school procedure. There 
can be life without arithmetic, but there can be no 

[60] 



ASPIRATION 

real life without aspiration. It points to higher and 
fairer levels of life and impels its possessor onward 
and upward. This needs to be fully recognized by 
the schools that would perform their high functions 
worthily, and no teacher can with impunity evade this 
responsibility. Somehow, we must contrive to instill 
the quality of aspiration into the lives of our pupils 
if we would acquit ourselves of this obHgation. To 
do less than this is to convict ourselves of stolidity 
or impotence. 

Chief among the agencies that may be made to con- 
tribute generously in this high enterprise is history, 
or more specifically, biography, which is quintessential 
history. A boy proceeds upon the assumption that 
what has been done may be done again and, possibly, 
done even better. When he reads of the beneficent 
achievements of Edison he becomes fired with zeal to 
equal if not surpass these achievements. Obstacles do 
not daunt the boy who aspires. Everything becomes 
possible in the light and heat of his zeal. Since Edison 
did it, he can do it, and no amount of discouragement 
can dissuade him from his lofty purpose. He sets 
his goal high and marches toward it with dauntless 
courage. If a wireless outfit is his goal, bells may ring 
and clocks may strike, but he hears or heeds them not. 

To be effective the teaching of history must be far 
more than the mere droning over the pages of a book. 
It must be so vital that it will set the currents of life 
in motion. In his illuminating report upon the schools 
of Denmark, Mr. Edwin G. Cooley quotes Bogtrup on 
the teaching of history as follows : *' History does not 
mean books and maps ; it is not to be divided into lessons 
and gone through with a pointer like any other paltry 
school subject. History lies before our eyes like a 

[51] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

mighty and turbulent ocean, into which the ages run 
like rivers. Its rushing waves bring to our listening 
ears the sound of a thousand voices from the olden 
time. With our pupils we stand on the edge of a cliff 
and gaze over this great sea ; we strive to open their 
eyes to its power and beauty ; we point out the laws 
of the rise and fall of the waves, and of the strong 
under-currents. We strive by poetic speech to open 
their ears to the voices of the sea which in our very 
blood run through the veins from generation to genera- 
tion, and, humming and singing, echo in our innermost 
being." 

Such teaching of history as is here portrayed will 
never fall upon dull ears or unresponsive spirits. It 
will thrill the youth with a consuming desire to be up 
and doing. He will ignite at touch of the living fire. 
His soul will become incandescent and the glow will 
warm him into noble action. He yearns to emulate 
the triumphs of those who have preceded him on the 
stage of endeavor. If he reads '' The Message to Gar- 
cia " he feels himself pulsating with the zeal to do deeds 
of valor and heroism. Whether the records deal with 
Clara Barton, Nathan Hale, Frances Willard, Mrs. 
Stowe, Columbus, Lincoln, William the Silent, Erasmus, 
or Raphael, if these people are present as vital entities 
the young people will thrill under the spell of the en- 
trancing stories. Then will history and biography 
come into their own as means to a great end, and then 
will aspiration take its rightful place as one of the 
large goals in the scheme of education. As Browning 
says, " A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or 
what's a heaven for ? " and again : 

What I aspired to be 
And was not, comforts me. 

[52] 



CHAPTER SEVEN 
Initiative 

NO one who gives the matter thoughtful considera- 
tion will ever deprecate or disparage the posses- 
sion of the virtue of obedience; but, on the other hand, 
no such thoughtful person will attempt to deny that 
this virtue, desirable as it is, may be fostered and 
emphasized to such a degree that its possessor will be- 
come a mere automaton. And this is bad ; indeed, very 
bad. We extol obedience, to be sure, but not the sort 
of blind, unthinking obedience that will reduce its pos- 
sessor to the status of the mechanical toy which needs 
only to be wound up and set going. The factory 
superintendent is glad to have men about him who are 
able to work efficiently from blueprints ; but he is glad, 
also, to have men about him who can dispense with 
blueprints altogether or can make their own. The 
difference between these two types of operatives spells 
the difference between leadership and mere blind, auto- 
matic following. Were all the workers in the factory 
mere followers, the work would be stereotyped and the 
factory would be unable to compete with the other 
factory, where initiative and leadership obtain. 

One psychologist avers that ninety per cent of our 
education comes through imitation; but, even so, it is 
quite pertinent to inquire into the remaining ten per 
cent. Conceding that we adopt our styles of wearing 
apparel at the behest of society ; that we fashion and 
furnish our homes in conformity to prevailing customs ; 
that we permit press and pulpit to formulate for us 
our opinions and beliefs ; in short, that we are imitators 
up to the full ninety per cent limit, it still must seem 

[53] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

obvious to the close observer that the remaining ten 
per cent has afforded us a vast number and variety of 
improvements that tend to make life more agreeable. 
This ten per cent has substituted the modern harvester 
for the sickle and cradle with which our ancestors 
harvested their grain; it has brought us the tractor 
for the turning of the soil in place of the primitive 
plow; it has enabled us to use the auto-truck in market- 
ing our products instead of the ox-teams of the olden 
times ; it has brought us the telegraph' and telephone 
with which to send the message of our desires across 
far spaces ; and it has supplied us with conveniences 
and luxuries that our grandparents could not imagine 
even in their wildest fancies. 

A close scrutiny will convince even the most incredu- 
lous that many teachers and schools are doing their 
utmost, in actual practice if not in theory, to eliminate 
the ten per cent margin and render their pupils imita- 
tors to the full one hundred per cent limit. We force 
the children to travel our standard pedagogical tracks 
and strive to fashion and fix them in our standard peda- 
gogical molds. And woe betide the pupil who jumps 
the track or shows an inclination to travel a route not 
of the teacher's choosing! He is haled into court 
forthwith and enjoined to render a strict accounting 
for his misdoing: for anything that is either less or 
more than a strict conformity to type is accounted a 
defection. We demand absolute obedience to the orac- 
ular edicts of the school as a passport to favor. Con- 
formity spells salvation for the child and, in the inter- 
ests of peace, he yields, albeit grudgingly, to the in- 
e^ntable. 

In world affairs we deem initiative a real asset, but 
one of the saddest of our mistakes in ordering school 

[54] 



INITIATIVE 

activities consists in our fervid attempts to prove that 
the school is detached from life and something quite 
apart from the world. We would have our pupils be- 
lieve that, when they are in school, they are neither 
in nor of the world. At our commencement exercises 
we tell the graduates that they are now passing across 
a threshold out into the world ; that they are now enter- 
ing into the realms of real life ; and that on the morrow 
they will experience the initial impact of practical life. 
These time-worn expressions pass current, at face 
value, among enthusiastic relatives and friends, but 
there are those in the audience who know them to be 
the veriest cant, with no basis either in logic or in 
common sense. It is nothing short of foolishness to 
assert that a young person must attain the age of 
eighteen years before he enters real life. The child 
knows that his home is a part of the world and an 
element in life, that the grocery is another part, the 
post-office still another part, and so on through an 
almost endless list. Equally well does he know that 
the school is a part of life, because it enters into his 
daily experiences the same as the grocery and the 
post-office. Full well does he know that he is not out- 
sijle of life when he is in school, and no amount of 
sophistry can convince him otherwise. If the school 
is not an integral part of the world and of life, so much 
the worse for the school and, by the same token, so 
much the worse for the teacher. Either the school is 
a part of the world or else it is neither a real nor a 
worthy school. 

The hours which the child spends in school are quite 
as much a part of his life as any other portion of the 
day, no matter what activities the school provides, 
and we do violence to the facts when we assume or argue 

[55] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

otherwise. Here is a place for emphasis. Here is the 
rock on which many a pedagogical bark has suffered 
shipwreck. We become so engrossed in the mechanics 
of our task — grades, tests, examinations, and promo- 
tions — that we lose sight of the fact that we are deal- 
ing with real life in a situation that is a part of the 
real world. The best preparation for life is to prac- 
tice life aright, and this is the real function of the 
school. If teachers only could or would give full recog- 
nition to this simple, open truth, there would soon ensue 
a wide departure from some of our present mechanized 
methods. But so long as we cling to the traditional 
notion that school is detached from real life, so long 
shall we continue to pursue our merry-go-round 
methods. If we could fully realize that we are teaching 
life by the laboratory method, many a vague and 
misty phase of our work would soon become clarified. 

Seeing, then, that the school is a cross-section of life, 
it follows, naturally, that it embodies the identical 
elements that constitute life as a whole. We all know, 
by experience, that life abounds in vicissitudes, dis- 
couragements, trials, and obstacles, and the school, 
being a part of real life, must furnish forth the same 
elements even if of less magnitude. There are obstacles, 
to be sure, and there should be. Abraham Lincoln 
once said, " When you can't remove an obstacle, plow 
around it." But teachers are prone to remove the 
obstacles from the pathway of their pupils when they 
should be training them to surmount these obstacles 
or, failing that for the time being, to plow around 
them. It is far easier, however, for the teacher to 
solve the problem for the boy than to stimulate him to 
solve it independently. If we would train the boy 
to leap over hurdles, we must supply the hurdles and 

[56] . 



INITIATIVE 

not remove them from his path. Still further, we 
must elevate the hurdles, by easy gradations, if we 
would increase the boy's powers and prowess. 

Professor Edgar James Swift says, " Man expends 
just energy enough to satisfy the demands of the situa- 
tion in which he is placed." This statement is big 
with meaning for all who have a true conception of 
pedagogy and of life. In this sentence we see the 
finger-board that points toward high achievements in 
teaching. If the hurdles are too low, the boy becomes 
flaccid, flabby, sluggish, and lethargic. The hurdles 
should be just high enough to engage his full strength, 
physical, mental, and moral. They should ever be a 
challenge to his best efforts. But they should never 
be so high that they will invite discouragement, disaster, 
and failure. The teacher should guard against elevat- 
ing hurdles as an exhibition of her own reach. The 
gymnasium is not a stage for exhibitions. On the 
contrary, it is a place for graduated, cumulative train- 
ing. 

Our inclination is to make life easy and agreeable 
to our pupils rather than real. To this end we help 
them over the difficulties, answer questions which they 
do not ask, and supply them with crutches when we 
should be training them to walk without artificial aids. 
The passing mark rather than real training seems to 
be made the goal of our endeavors even if we enfeeble 
the child by so doing. We seem to measure our success 
by the number of promotions and not by the quality 
of the training we give. We seem to be content to 
produce weaklings if only we can push them through 
the gateway of promotion. It matters not that they 
are unable to find their way alone through the mazes 
of life; let them acquire that ability later, after they 

[57] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

have passed beyond our control. Again quoting from 
Professor Swift, " Following a leader, even though that 
leader be the teacher, tends to take from children what- 
ever latent ability for initiative they may have." 

There is a story of an indulgent mother who was 
quite eager that her boy should have a pleasant birth- 
day and so asked him what he would most like to do. 
The answer came in a flash : " Thank you, Mother, 
I should most like just to be let alone." This answer 
leads us at once to the inner sanctuary of childhood. , 
Children yearn to be let alone and must grow restive 
under the incessant attentions of their elders. In 
school there is ever such a continuous fusillade of ques- 
tions and answers, assigning of lessons, recitations, 
corrections, explanations, and promulgations, rules and 
restrictions that the children have no time for growing 
inside. They are not left to their own devices but are 
pulled and pushed about, and managed, and coddled or 
coerced all day long, so that there is neither time nor 
scope for the exercise and development of initiative. 
The teacher, at times, seems to think of the school 
as a mammoth syringe with which she is called upon 
to pump information into her bored but passive pupils. 

Silence is the element in which initiative thrives, but 
our school programs rarely provide any periods of 
silence. They assume that to be eff*ective a school must 
be a place of bustle, and hurry, and excitement, not 
to mention entertainment. Sometimes the child is in- 
tent upon explorations among the infinities when the 
teacher summons him back to earth to cross a ^ or dot 
an i. The teacher who would implant a thought-germ 
in the minds of her pupils and then allow fifteen min- 
utes of silence for the process of germination, should 
be ranked as an excellent teacher. When the child 
[58] 



INITIATIVE 

is thinking out things for himself the process is favor- 
able to initiative; but when the teacher directs his 
every movement, thought, and impulse, she is repressing 
the very quality that makes for initiative and ultimate 
leadership. When the boy would do some things on 
his own, the teacher is striving to force him to travel 
in her groove. 

Henderson well says : " We do not invariably cul- 
tivate initiative by letting children alone, but in nine 
cases out of ten it is a highly effective method. In 
our honest desire for their betterment, the temptation 
is always to jump in and to do for them, when we 
would much better keep hands off, and allow them, 
under favorable conditions, to do for themselves. They 
may do something which, from an objective point of 
view, is much less excellent than our own well-con- 
sidered plan. But education is not an objective process. 
It is subjective and was wrapped up in the funny 
blundering little enterprise of the child, rather than in 
our own intrusive one." The crude product of the 
boy's work in manual training is far better for him 
and for the whole process of education than the finished 
product of the teacher's skill which sometimes passes 
for the boy's own work. Some manual training teachers 
have many a sin charged to their account in this line 
that stands in dire need of forgiveness. 

There are many worthy enterprises through which 
initiative may be fostered. Prominent among these are 
some of the home and school projects that are in vogue. 
These projects, when wisely selected with reference 
to the child's powers and inclination, give scope for the 
exercise of ingenuity, resourcefulness, perseverance, 
and unhampered thinking and acting. Besides, some 
of the by-products are of value, notably self-reliance 

[59] 



TEE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

and self-respect. A child yearns to play a thinking 
part in the drama of life and not the part of a marion- 
ette or jumping- jack that moves only when some one 
pulls the string. He yearns to be an entity and not a 
mere echo. Paternalism, in our school work, does not 
make for self-reliance, and, therefore, is to be deplored. 
There is small hope for the child without initiative, 
who is helped over every slightest obstacle, and who 
acquires the habit of calling for help whenever he en- 
counters a difficulty. 

Here we have ample scope for the problem element 
in teaching and we are recreant to our opportunities 
and do violence to child-nature if we fail to utilize this 
method. We are much given to the analytic in our 
teaching, whereas the pupil enjoys the synthetic. He 
yearns to make things. Constructing problems in 
arithmetic, or history, or physics makes a special appeal 
to him and we do violence to his natural bent if we fail 
to accord him the opportunity. We can send him in 
quest of dramatic situations in the poem, or derivatives 
in his reading lesson, set him thinking of the construc- 
tion of farm buildings or machinery, or lead him to 
seek the causes that led up to events in history. In 
brief, we can appeal to his curiosity and intelligence 
and so engage the intensest interest of the whole boy. 

A school girl assumed the task of looking after all 
the repairs in the way of plumbing in the home and, 
certainly, was none the worse for the experience. She 
is now a dentist and has achieved distinction both at 
home and abroad in her chosen profession. She gained 
the habit of meeting difficult situations without abate- 
ment of dignity or refinement. The school, at its 
best, is a favorable situation for self-education and the 
wise teacher will see to it that it does not decline from 

[60] 



INITIATIVE 

this high plane. Only so will its products be young 
men and women who need no leading strings, who can 
find their way about through the labyrinth of life and 
not be abashed. They are the ones to whom we must 
look for leadership in all the enterprises of life, for 
they have learned how to initiate work and carry it 
through to success. That school will win distinction 
which makes initiative one of its big goals and is dili- 
gent in causing the activities of the pupils to reach 
upward toward the achievement of this end. 

We may well conclude with a quotation from Dr. 
Henry van Dyke : " The mere pursuit of knowledge 
is not necessarily an emancipating thing. There Is a 
kind of reading which is as passive as massage. There 
is a kind of study which fattens the mind for examina- 
tion like a prize pig for a county fair. No doubt the 
beginning of instruction must lie chiefly in exercises 
of perception and memory. But at a certain point the 
reason and the judgment must be awakened and brought 
into voluntary play. As a teacher I would far rather 
have a pupil give an Incorrect answer in a way which 
showed that he had really been thinking about the sub- 
ject, than a literally correct answer in a way which 
showed that he had merely swallowed what I had told 
him, and regurgitated it on the examination paper." 



[61] 



CHAPTER EIGHT 
Imagination 

IN his very stimulating book, Learning and Doingy 
Professor Swift quotes from a business man as 
follows : " Modern business no longer waits for men 
to qualify after promotion. Through anticipation and 
prior preparation every growing man must be largely 
ready for his new job when it comes to him. I find 
very few individuals make any effort to think out better 
ways of doing things. They do not anticipate needs, 
do not keep themselves fresh at the growing point. 
If ever they had any imagination they seem to have 
lost it, and imagination is needed in a growing busi- 
ness, for it is through the imagination that one antici- 
pates future changes and so prepares for them before 
they come. Accordingly, as a general proposition, the 
selection of a man for a vacancy within the organiza- 
tion is more or less a matter of guesswork. Now and 
then an ambitious, wide-awake young man works into 
the organization and in a very short time is spotted 
by various department managers for future promotion, 
but the number of such individuals is discouragingly 
small. The difficulty with which we are always con- 
fronted is that our business grows faster than do those 
within it. The men do not keep up with our changes. 
The business grows away from them, and quite re- 
luctantly the management is frequently compelled to 
go outside for necessary material. We need, at the 
present time, four or five subordinate chiefs in various 
parts of the factory and I can fill none of the positions 
satisfactorily from material in hand." 

This business man, unconsciously perhaps, puts his 

[62] 



IMAGINATION 

finger upon one of the weak places in our school pro- 
cedure. He convicts us of stifling and repressing the 
imagination of our pupils. For it is a matter of com- 
mon knowledge that every normal child is endowed 
with a vivid imagination when he enters school. No 
one will challenge this statement who has entered into 
the heart of childhood through the gateway of play. 
He has seen a rag doll invested with all the graces of 
a princess; he has seen empty spools take on all the 
attributes of the railway train; and he has seen the 
child's world peopled with entities of which the un- 
imaginative person cannot know. Children revel in 
the lore of fairyland, and in this realm nothing seems 
impossible to them. Their toys are the material which 
their imagination uses in building new and delightful 
worlds for them. If this imagination is unimpaired 
when they become grown-ups, these toys are called 
ideals, and these ideals are the material that enter 
into the lives of poets, artists, inventors, scientists, 
orators, statesmen, and reformers. If the child lacks 
this quality at the end of his school life, the school 
must be held responsible, at least in part, and so must 
face the charge of doing him an irreparable injury. 
It were better by far for the child to lose a leg or an 
arm somewhere along the school way than to lose his 
imagination.. Better abandon the school altogether if 
it tends to quench the divine fire of imagination. Bet- 
ter still, devise some plan of so reconstructing the work 
of the school that we shall forever forestall the possi- 
bility of producing a generation of spiritual cripples. 
The business man already quoted gives to the schools 
their cue. He shows the need of imagination in prac- 
tical affairs and, by implication, shows that the school 
has been recreant to its opportunities in the way of 

[63] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

stimulating this requisite quality. We must be quite 
aware that the men and women who have done things 
as well as those who are doing things have had or 
have imagination. Otherwise no achievements would 
be set down to their credit. It is the very acme of un- 
wisdom to expect our pupils to accomplish things and 
then take from them the tools of their craft. Imag- 
ination is an indispensable tool, and the teacher assumes 
a grave responsibihty who cither destroys or blunts it. 
Unless the school promotes imagination it is not really 
a school, seeing that it omits from its plans and prac- 
tices this basic quality. Too much emphasis cannot 
be laid upon this patent truth, nor can we deplore too 
earnestly the tendency of many teachers to strangle 
imagination. 

We all recognize C. Hanford Henderson as one of 
cur most fertile and sane writers on educational themes 
and we cannot do better just here than to quote, 
even at some length, from his facile pen: "To say 
of man or woman that they have no imagination is to 
convict them of many actual and potential sins. Such 
a defect means obtuseness in manners and morals, ster- 
ility in arts and science, blundering in the general con- 
duct of life. Children are often accused of having 
too much imagination, but in reality that is hardly pos- 
sible. The imagination may run riot, and, growing 
by what it feeds upon, come dangerously near to un- 
truthfulness, — the store of facts may have been too 
small. But the remedy is not to cripple or kill the 
imagination; it is rather to provide the needed equip- 
ment of facts and to train the imagination to work 
within the limits of truth and probability. The unim- 
aginative man is exceedingly dull company. From the 
moment he opens his eyes in the morning until he closes 

[64] 



IMAGINATION 

them at night, he is prone to the sins of both omission 
and commission. No matter how good his intentions, 
he constantly offends. No matter how great his indus- 
try, he fails to attain. One can trace many immorali- 
ties, from slight breaches of manners to grave criminal 
offenses, to a simple lack of imagination. The offender 
failed to see, — he was, to all intents and purposes, 
blind. At its best, imagination is insight. It is the 
direct source of most^ of our social amenities, of tolera- 
tion, charity, consideration, — in a word, of all those 
social virtues which distinguish the child of light." 
Another fertile writer says : " Many a child has been 
driven with a soul-wound into corroding silence by 
parents who thought they were punishing falsehood 
when they were in reality repressing the imagination 
— the faculty which master-artists denote as the first 
and loveliest possession of the creative mind." 

Some of our boys will be farmers but, if they lack 
imagination, they will be dull fellows, at the very best, 
and, relatively speaking, not far above the horse that 
draws the plow. The girls wdll be able to talk, but 
if they lack imagination they can never become conver- 
sationalists. The person who has imagination can 
cause the facts of the multiplication table to scin- 
tillate and glow. The person who lacks imagination 
is unable to invest with interest and charm even the 
mountain, the river, the landscape, or the poem. The 
gossip, the scandal-monger, or the coarse jester proves 
his lack of imagination and his consequent inability 
to hold his own in real conversation. We hope, of 
course, that some of our pupils may become inventors, 
but this will be impossible unless they possess imagi- 
nation. A sociologist states the case in this fashion: 
*' Wealth, the transient, is material ; achievement, the 

[65] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

enduring, is immaterial. The products of achievement 
are not material things at all. They are not ends, 
but means. They are methods, ways, devices, arts, 
systems, institutions. In a word, they are inventions,** 
In short, to say that one is an inventor is but another 
way of saying that he has imagination. 

It is one thing to know facts but quite another thing 
to know the significance of facts. And imagination 
is the alembic that discovers the significance of the facts. 
A thousand men of England knew the facts touching 
the life and education of the children of that country, 
but the facts remained mere facts until the imagination 
of Dickens interpreted them and thus emancipated 
childhood from the thralldom of ignorance and cruelty. 
A thousand men knew the fact touching the steam that 
issues from the tea-kettle, but not until Watts dis- 
covered the significance of the fact did the tea-kettle 
become the precursor of the steam-engine that has 
transformed civilization. It required the imagination 
of Newton to interpret the falling of the apple and to 
cause this simple, common fact to lead on to the dis- 
covery of the great truth of gravitation. Had Galileo 
lacked imagination, the chandelier might have kept on 
swinging but the discovery of the rotation of the earth 
would certainly have been postponed. 

In this view of the matter we can see one of the 
weaknesses of some of the work in our colleges as well 
as in other schools. The teachers are fertile in arriv- 
ing at facts, but seem to think their tasks completed 
with these discoveries and so proclaim the discovery 
of facts to be education. It matters not that the 
facts are devoid of significance to their students, they 
simply proceed to the discovery of more facts. They 
combine two or more substances in a test-tube and 

[ 66 ] 



IMAGINATION 

thus produce a new substance. This fact is solemnly 
inscribed in a notebook and the incident is closed. But 
the student who has imagination and industry inquires 
"What then.'^" and proceeds with investigations on 
his own initiative that result in a positive boon to 
humanity. Imagination takes the facts and makes 
something of them, while the college teacher has dis- 
closed his inability to cope with his own students in 
fields that only imagination can render productive. 

To quote Henderson once again : " In most of our 
current education, instead of cultivating so valuable 
a quality, we have stupidly done all that we can to 
suppress it. We have not sufficiently studied the actual 
boy before us to find out what he is up to, and what 
end he has in mind. On the contrary, we proclaim, 
with curious indifference, some end of our own devis- 
ing, and with what really amounts to spiritual brutality, 
we try to drive him towards it. We do this, we irre- 
sponsible parents and teachers, because we ourselves 
lack imagination, and do not see that we are blunt- 
ing, instead of sharpening, our human tool. Yet we 
define education in terms of imagination when we say 
that education is the unfolding and perfecting of the 
human spirit; or, that education is a setting-up in 
the heart of the child of a moral and aesthetic revela- 
tion of the universe; for the human spirit which we 
are trying to establish is not a fact, but a gracious 
possibility of the future." 

Happy is the child whose teacher possesses imagi- 
nation; who can touch the common things of life with 
the magic wand of her fancy and invest them with 
supreme charm; who can peer into the future with her 
pupils and help them translate the bright dreams of 
today into triumphs in the realms of art, music, science, 

[67] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

philosophy, language, and philanthropy; and who 
builds air-castles of her own and thus has the skill 
to help the children build theirs. It is not easy, if, 
indeed, it is possible, for the teacher to quicken imagi- 
nation in her pupils unless she herself is endowed with 
this animating quality. Dr. Henry van Dyke puts 
the case thus : " I care not whether a man is called 
a tutor, an instructor, or a full professor ; nor whether 
any academic degrees adorn his name; nor how many 
facts or symbols of facts he has stored away in his 
brain. If he has these four powers — clear sight, quick 
imagination, sound reason, strong will — I call him 
an educated man and fit to be a teacher." And, of a 
surety, imagination is not the least of these. 

To this end every teacher should use every means 
possible to keep her imagination alive and luxuriant, 
and never, on any account, permit the exigencies of 
her task to repress it. The success of her pupils 
depends upon her, and she should strive against stag- 
nation as she would against death. The passing out, 
the evaporation of imagination is an insidious process, 
and when it is gone she is but a barren fig-tree. If her 
imagination is strong and healthy she cannot have 
a poor school and her pupils will bless her memory 
throughout the years. As applying to every grade 
of school we may well note the words of Van Dyke: 
" Every true university should make room in its scheme 
for life out-of-doors. There is much to be said for 
John Milton's plan of a school whose pupils should 
go together each year on long horseback journeys 
and sailing cruises to see the world. Walter Bagehot 
said of Shakespeare that he could not walk down a street 
without knowing what was in it. John Burroughs 
has a college on a little farm beside the Hudson; and 
[ 68 ] 



IMAGINATION 

John Muir has a university called Yosemite. If such 
men cross a field or a thicket they see more than the 
seven wonders of the world. That is culture. And 
without it, all scholastic learning is arid, and all the 
academic degrees known to man are but china oranges 
hung on a dry tree." And without imagination this 
type of culture is impossible. 

All reforms and, indeed, all progress depend upon 
imagination. We must be able to picture the world 
as it ought to be before we can set on foot plans for 
betterment. It is the high province of the imagination 
to enter into the feelings and aspirations of others 
and so be able to lend a hand ; to build a better future 
out of the materials of the present; to soar above 
the solemnities and conventions of tradition and to 
smile while soaring; to see the invisible and touch the 
intangible; and to see the things that are not and call 
them forth as realities. Seeing that the business man, 
the fertile-brained essayist, and the gifted poet agree 
in extolling the potential value of imagination, we have 
full warrant for according to it an honored place in 
the curriculum of the school. Too long has it been an 
incidental minor ; it is now high time to advance it 
to the rank of a major. 



[69] 



CHAPTER NINE 
Reverence 

AT the basis of reverence is respect ; and reverence 
is respect amplified and sublimated. A boy must 
be either dull or heedless who can look at a bird sailing 
in the air for five minutes and not become surcharged 
with curiosity to know how it can do it. His curiosity 
must lead him to an examination of the wing of a bird, 
and his scrutiny will reveal it as a marvelous bit of 
mechanism. The adjustment and overlapping of the 
feathers will convince him that it presents a wonderful 
design and a no less wonderful adaptation of means to 
ends. He sees that when the bird is poised in the air 
the wing is essentially air-tight and that when the 
bird elects to ascend or descend the feathers open a 
free passage for the air. Even a cursory examination 
of the bird's wing must persuade the boy that, with 
any skill he might attain, he could never fabricate any- 
thing so wonderful. This knowledge must, in the na- 
ture of things, beget a feeling of respect, and there- 
after, whenever the boy sees a bird, he will experience 
a resurgence of this feeling. 

Some one has said, " Everything is infinitely high 
that we can't see over," and because the boy comes to 
know that he cannot duplicate the bird's wing it becomes 
infinitely high or great to him and so wins his respect. 
To the boy who has been taught to think seriously, 
the mode of locomotion of a worm or a snake is like- 
wise a marvel, and he observes it with awe. The boy 
who treads a worm underfoot gives indisputable evi- 
dence that he has never given serious thought to its 
mode of travel. Had he done so, he would never com- 

[70] 



REVERENCE 

mit so ruthless an act. The worm would have won 
his respect by its ability to do a thing at which he 
himself would certainly fail. He sees the worm scaling 
the trunk of a tree with the greatest ease, but when 
he essays the same task he finds it a very difficult mat- 
ter. So he tips his cap figuratively to the worm and, 
in boyish fashion, admits that it is the better man 
of the two. And never again, unless inadvertently, 
will he crush a worm. Even a snake he will kill only 
in what he conceives to be self-defense. 

An American was making his first trip to Europe. 
On the way between the Azores and Gibraltar the 
ship encountered a storm of great violence. For an 
hour or more the traveler stood on the forward deck, 
watching the titanic struggle, feeling the ship tremble 
at each impact of the waves, and hearing the roar that 
only a storm at sea can produce. Upon returning 
to his friends he said, " Never again can I speak flip- 
pantly of the ocean; never again can I use the ex- 
pression, ' crossing the pond.' The sea is too vast 
and too sublime for that." He had achieved rever- 
ence. Many a child in school can spell the name of 
the ocean and give a book definition rather glibly, who, 
nevertheless, has not the faintest conception of what 
an ocean really is. The tragedy of the matter is that 
the teacher gives him a perfect mark for his parrot- 
like definition and spelling and leaves him in crass 
ignorance of the reality. The boy deals only with the 
husk and misses the kernel. When he can spell and 
define, the work has only just begun, and not until the 
teacher has contrived to have him emotionalize the 
ocean will he enter into the heart of its greatness, 
and power, and utility in promoting life, and so come 
to experience a feeling of respect for it. When it 

[71] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

has won his respect he can read Victor Hugo's match- 
less description of the sea with understanding, measur- 
able appreciation, and, certainly, a thrill of delight. 

It is rare fun for children, and even for grown-ups, to 
locate the constellations, planets, and stars. Of 
course, the North Star is everybody's favorite because 
it is so steady, so reliable, so dependable. We know 
just where to find it, and it never disappoints us. 
Two boys who once were crossing from New York to 
Naples found great delight in a star in the Southern 
sky that retained its relative position throughout the 
journey. At the conclusion of dinner in the evening 
the boys were wont to repair to the deck to find their 
star and receive its greetings. In their passage through 
the Mediterranean they became curious, wondering how 
it came about that the star failed to change its rela- 
tive position in their journey of three thousand miles. 
When they realized that their star is the apex of a 
triangle whose base is three thousand miles but whose 
other legs are so long that the base is infinitesimally 
short by comparison, their amazement knew no bounds 
and for the first time in their lives they gained a pro- 
found respect for space. 

This new concept of space was worth the trip across 
the ocean to those boys, and the wonder is that space 
had never before meant anything more or other than 
a word to be spelled. The school and the home had 
had boundless opportunities to inculcate in them a 
sense of space, yet this delightful task was left to 
a passenger on board the ship. But for his kindly 
offices those boys might have gone on for years con- 
ceiving of space as merely a word of five letters. It 
would have been easy for parent or teacher to en- 
gender in them some appreciation of space by explaining 
[ 72 ] 



REVERENCE 

to them that if they were to travel thirty miles a day 
it would require twenty-two years to reach the moon, 
— which is, in reality, our next-door neighbor, — and 
that to reach the sun, at the same rate of travel, would 
require more than eight thousand years, or the added 
lifetimes of almost three hundred generations. But 
they were sent abroad to see the wonders of the Old 
World with no real conception of space and, therefore, 
no feeling of respect for it. Before their trip abroad 
they never could have read the last two verses of the 
eighth chapter of Romans with any real appreciation. 

Still our schools go on their complacent way, teach- 
ing words, words, words that are utterly devoid of 
meaning to the pupils, and, sad to relate, seem to 
think their mission accomplished. The pupils are re- 
quired to spell words, define words, write words, and 
parse words day after day as if these words were life- 
less and meaningless blocks of wood to be merely tossed 
up and down and moved hither and thither. So soon 
as a word becomes instinct with life and meaning, it 
kindles the child's interest at its every recurrence and 
it becomes as truly an entity as a person. It is then 
endowed with attributes that distinguish it clearly from 
its fellows and becomes, to the child, a vivid reality in the 
scheme of life. To our two boys every star that meets 
their gaze conjures up a host of memories and helps 
to renew their spiritual experience and widen their 
horizon. Space is a reality, to them, a mighty reality, 
and they cannot think of it without a deep sense of 
respect. 

There are people of mature years who have never 
given to their hands a close examination. Such an 
examination will disclose the fact that the hand is an 
instrument of marvelous design. It will be seen that 

[73] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

the fingers all differ in length but, when they grasp 
an orange or a ball, it will be noted that they are 
conterminous — that the ends form a straight line. 
This gives them added purchase and far greater power 
of resistance. Were they of equal length the pressure 
upon the ball would be distributed and it could be 
wrested from the grasp far more readily. No mechani- 
cal contrivance has ever been designed that is com- 
parable to the hand in flexibility, deftness, adaptability, 
or power of prehension. It can pick up a needle or a 
cannon-ball at will. Its touch is as light as a feather 
or as stark as a catapult. It can be as gentle as 
mercy or as harsh as battle. It can soothe to repose 
or rouse to fury. It can express itself in the gentle 
zephyr or in the devastating whirlwind. Its versa- 
tility is altogether worthy of notice, and we may well 
hold the lesson in history in abeyance, for the nonce, 
while we inculcate due respect for the hand. For no 
one can contemplate his hand for five minutes and not 
gain for it a feeling of profound respect. 

What is true of the hand is true of the whole human 
body. This is the very acme of created things; this 
is God's masterpiece. How any one can fail to respect 
such a wonderful piece of work is beyond explanation. 
The process of walking or of breathing must hold the 
thoughtful person enthralled and enchanted. But, 
strange as it may seem, there are those who seem not to 
realize in what a marvelous abode their spirits have 
their home. Such scant respect do they have for their 
bodies that they defile them and treat them with shame- 
less ignominy. They saturate them with poisons and 
vulgarize them with unseemly practices. They seem 
to regard them as mere property to be used or abused 
at pleasure and not temples to be honored. The man 
[74] 



REVERENCE 

who does not respect his own body can feel no respect 
or reverence for its Creator nor for the soul that 
dwells within it. Such a man lacks self-respect and 
self-respect is the fertile soil in which many virtues 
flourish. The teaching of physiology that fails to 
generate a feeling of deep respect for the human body 
is not the sort of teaching that should obtain in our 
schools. 

Again, a person who is possessed of fine sensibilities 
sees in the apple tree in full bloom a creation of tran- 
scendant beauty and charm. The poet cannot describe 
it, nor can the artist reproduce it. It is both a mys- 
tery and a miracle. Into this miracle nature has 
poured her lavish treasures of fertility, of rain, of sun- 
shine, and of zephyrs, and from it at the zenith of its 
beauty the full-throated robin pours forth his heart 
in melodious greeting. It may be well to dismiss the 
school to see the circus parade, but even more fitting 
is it to dismiss the school to see this burst of splendor. 
In its glorious presence silence is the only language 
that is befitting. In such a presence sound is discord, 
for such enchantment as it begets cannot be made 
articulate. Its influence steals into the senses and 
lifts the spirit up. To defile or despoil such beauty 
would be to desecrate a shrine. But the sordid man 
sees in this symphony of color nothing else than a 
promise of fruit. His response is wholly physical, 
not spiritual at all. His spiritual sense seems atrophied 
and he can do nothing but estimate the bushels of fruit. 
He feels no respect for the beauty before him and it 
is evident that somewhere along the line his spiritual 
education was neglected. He excites our sympathy 
and our hope that his children may not share his fate. 

In the way of illustrating this quality of respect, 

[ 75 ] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

we reach the ch'max in the thirty-eighth chapter of the 
Book of Job and following. The dramatic element of 
literature here reaches its zenith. God is the speaker, 
the stricken, outcast Job is the sole auditor, and the 
stage is a whirlwind. It is related of the late Pro- 
fessor Hodge that, on one occasion when he was about 
to perform an experiment in his laboratory, he said to 
some students who stood near, " Gentlemen, please re- 
move your hats ; I am about to ask God a question." 
But here in this chapter we have a still more sublime 
situation, for God is here asking questions of the man. 
And these questions dig deep into the life of the man 
and show him how puny and impotent is the finite in 
the presence of the Infinite. In this presence there 
is neither pomp, nor parade, nor vaunting, nor self- 
aggrandizement, nor arrogance. Even the printed 
page cannot but induce respect, devoutness, and pro- 
found reverence, for it tells of nature's wonders — the 
snow-crystals, the rain, the dewdrop, the light, the 
cloud, the lightning — and reveals to the bewildered 
sight some apprehension of the Author of them all. 

The reader must, by now, have divined the conclusion 
of the whole matter. Without respect there can be no 
reverence; and, without reverence, there can be neither 
education nor civilization that is worth while. Some 
one has defined reverence as " that exquisite constraint 
which leads a man to hate all that is unsuitable and 
sordid and exaggerated and to love all that is excellent 
and temperate and beautiful." This definition is both 
comprehensive and inclusive, and the superintendent 
may well promulgate it in his directions to his teachers. 
All teaching has to do with Truth and, in the presence 
of Truth, whether in mathematics, or science, or his- 
torv, or language, the teacher should feel that he 

[76] 



REVERENCE 

stands in the presence of the Burning Bush and hears 
the command, " Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, 
for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground." 
It seems a thousand pities that even college students 
rush into the presence of the Burning Bush in hobnailed 
shoes, shouting forth the college yell as they go. 

The man who is reverent disclaims everything that 
is cheap, or vulgar, or coarse, or unseemly. He is so 
essentially fine that the gaudy, the bizarre, and the 
intemperate, in whatever form, grate upon his sensi- 
bilities. He respects himself too much to be lacking in 
respect to others. He instinctively shrinks away from 
ugly vulgarization as from a pestilence. He is kindly, 
charitable, sympathetic, and sincere. Exaggeration, 
insinuation, and caricature are altogether foreign to 
his spirit. In his society we feel inspired and ennobled. 
His very presence is a tonic, and his tongue distills only 
purity. His example is the lodestar of our aspirations, 
and we fain would be his disciples. We feel him to be 
something worshipful in that his life constantly beckons 
to our better selves. To be reverent is to be liberally 
educated, while to be irreverent is to dwell in dark- 
ness and ignorance. To be reverent is to live on the 
.heights, where the air is pure and tonic and where the 
sunlight is free from taint. To be reverent is to 
acknowledge our indebtedness to all those who, in art, 
in science, in literature, in music, or in philanthropy, 
have caused the waters of life to gush forth in clear 
abundance. To be reverent is to stand uncovered in 
the presence of Life and to experience the thrill of 
the spiritual impulses that only an appreciation of life 
can generate. If this is reverence, then the school 
honors itself by giving this quality a place of honor* 

[77] 



CHAPTER TEN 

Sense of Responsibility 

EVERY one who has had to do with Harvey's Gram- 
mar will readily recall the sentence, " Milo began 
to lift the ox when he was a calf." Aside from the 
interest which this sentence aroused as to the anteced- 
ent of the pronoun, it also enunciated a bit of philosophy 
which caused the pupils to wonder about the possibility 
of such a feat. They were led to consider such 
examples of physical strength as Samson, Hercules, 
and the more modern Sandow and to wonder, per- 
haps, just what course of training brought these men 
to their attainment of physical power. It is com- 
paratively easy for adults to realize that such feats as 
these men accomplished could only come through a long 
process of training. If a man can lift a given weight 
on one day, he may be able to lift a slightly heavier 
weight the next day, and so on until he has achieved 
distinction by reason of his ability to lift great weights. 
So it is in this matter of responsibility. It need hardly 
be said that responsibility is the heaviest burden that 
men and women are called upon to lift or carry. We < 
need only think of the responsibilities pertaining to the 
office of the chief ruler of a country in time of war, 
or of the commanding general of armies, or of the 
president of large industrial concerns, and so on 
through the list. Such men bear burdens of responsi- 
bility that cannot be estimated in terms of weights 
or measures. We can easily think o.f the time when the 
manager of a great industrial concern was a child 
in school, but it is not so easy to think of the six-year- 
old boy performing the functions of this same manager. 
[78] 



SENSE OF RESPONSIBILITY 

However, we do know that the future rulers, generals, 
managers, and superintendents are now sitting at desks 
in the schools and it behooves all teachers to inquire 
by what process these pupils may be so trained that in 
time they will be able to execute these functions. 

In some such way we gain a right concept of re- 
sponsibility. We cannot think of the six-year-old 
boy as a bank president but, in our thinking, we can 
watch his progress, in one-day intervals, from his ini- 
tial experience in school to his assumption of the duties 
pertaining to the presidency of the bank. In thus 
tracing his progress there is no strain or stress in our 
thinking nor does the element of improbability obtrude 
itself. We think along a straight and level road where 
no hills arise to obstruct the view. Each succeeding 
day marks an inch or so of progress toward the goal. 
But should we set the responsibilities of the bank presi- 
dent over against the powers of the child, the disparity 
would overwhelm our thinking and our minds would 
be thrown into confusion. Our thinking is level and 
easy only when we conceive of strength and responsi- 
bility advancing side by side and at the same rate. 

It would be an interesting experience to overhear the 
teacher inquiring of the superintendent how she should 
proceed in order to inculcate in her pupils a sense of 
responsibility. We should be acutely alert to catch 
every word of the superintendent's reply. If he were 
dealing with such a concrete problem as Milo and the 
calf, his response would probably be satisfactory; but 
when such an abstract quality as responsibility is pre- 
sented to him his reply might be vague and unsatis- 
factory. His thinking may have had to do with con- 
crete problems so long that an abstract quality presents 
a real difficulty to his mental operations. Yet the ques- 

[79] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

tion which the teacher propounds is altogether perti- 
nent and reasonable and, if he fails to give a satisfactory 
reply, he will certainly decline in her esteem. 

The normal child welcomes such a measure of respon- 
sibility as falls within the compass of his powers and 
acquits himself of it in a manner that is worthy of 
commendation. This open truth encourages the con- 
viction that the superintendent who can give to the 
teacher a definite plan by which she will be able to 
develop a sense of responsibility, wiU commend himself 
to her favor, if not admiration. They both know full 
well that if the pupil emerges from the school period 
lacking this quality he will be a helpless weight upon 
society and a burden to himself and his family, no 
matter what his mental attainments. He will be but a 
child in his ability to cope with situations that confront 
him and cannot perform the functions of manhood. 
Though a man in physical stature he will shrink from 
the ordinary duties that fall to the lot of a man and, 
like a child, will cling to the hand of his mother for 
guidance. In all situations he will show himself a 
spiritual coward. 

The problem is easy of statement but by no means so 
easy of solution. At the age of six the boy takes his 
place at a desk in the school. Twenty years hence, 
let us say, he will be a railway engineer. As such he 
must drive his engine at forty miles an hour through 
blinding storm, or in inky darkness, or through menac- 
ing and stifling tunnels, or over dizzy bridges, or around 
the curve on the edge of the precipice — and do this 
with no shadow of fear or hint of trepidation, but 
always with a keen eye, a cool head, and a steady hand. 
In his keeping are the lives of many persons, and any 
wavering or unsteadiness, on his part, may lead to 
[80] 



SENSE OF RESPONSIBILITY 

speedy disaster. Somewhere along the way between 
the ages of six and twenty-six he must gain the ability 
to assume a heavy responsibility, and it would seem a 
travesty upon rational education to force him to acquire 
this ability wholly during the eight years succeeding his 
school experience. If, at the age of eighteen, he does 
not exhibit some ability in this respect, the school 
may justly be charged with dereliction. 

Or, twenty years hence, this boy may be a physician. 
If so, he will find a weeping mother clinging to him and 
imploring him to save her baby. He will see a strong 
man broken with sobs and offering him a fortune to 
save his wife from being engulfed in the dark shadows. 
His ears will be assailed with delirious ravings that 
call to him for relief and life. He will be importuned 
by the grief-crushed child not to let her mother go. 
He will be called upon to grapple with plague, with 
pestilence, with death itself. Unless he can give succor, 
hope departs and darkness enshrouds and blights. He 
alone can hold disease and death at bay and bid dark- 
ness give place to light and cause sorrow to vanish 
before the smile of joy. He stands alone at the portal 
to do battle against the demons of devastation and 
desolation. And, if he fails, the plaints of grief will 
penetrate the innermost chambers of his soul. He 
must not fail. So he toils on through the long night 
watches, disdaining food and rest, that the breaking 
day may bring in gladness and crown the arts of heal- 
ing. And the school that does not share in the glory of 
such achievement misses a noble opportunity. 

Again, twenty years hence, the little girl who now 
sits at her desk, crowned with golden ringlets, will 
be a wife and mother, and the mistress of a well-con- 
ditioned home. She is a composite of Mary and Mar- 

[81] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

tha and in her kingdom reigns supreme and benign. 
In her home there is no hint of ' raw haste, half-sister 
to delaj," for long since she acquired the habit of 
serene mastery. She meets her manifold responsibili- 
ties with a smile and sings her way through them all. 
If clouds arise, she banishes them with the magic of 
her poise and amiability. She can say with Napoleon, 
" I do not permit myself to become a victim of circum- 
stances ; I make circumstances." Back in the school 
she learned order, system, method, and acquired the 
sense of responsibility. At first the teacher's desk 
was her special care, and by easy gradations the scope 
of her activities was widened until she came to feel 
responsible for the appearance of the entire schoolroom. 
Now in her womanhood she is a delight to her husband, 
her children, her guests, and her neighbors. Emer- 
gencies neither daunt her nor render her timorous, but, 
serene and masterful, she meets the new situation as a 
welcome novelty, and, with supreme amiability, accepts 
it as a friendly challenge to her resourcefulness. She 
needs not to apologize or explain, for difficulties dis- 
appear at her approach because, in the school, re- 
sponsibility was one of the major goals of her training. 

Or, again, two decades hence this child may have 
attained to a position in the world of affairs where 
good taste, judgment, perseverance, self-control, gra- 
ciousness, and tact are accounted assets of value. 
But these qualities, gained through experience, are as 
much a part of herself as her hands. A thousand times 
in the past has the responsibility been laid upon her 
of making selections touching shapes, colors, materials, 
or types, till now her judgment is regarded as final. 
Her self-control has become proverbial, but it is not 
the miracle that it seems, for it has become grooved 

[82] 



SENSE OF RESPONSIBILITY 

into a habit by much experience. She met all these 
lions in her path at school and vanquished them all, 
with the aid of the teacher's counsel and encouragement. 
She can perform heroisms now because she long since 
contracted the habit of heroisms. And responsibility 
is most becoming to her now because in the years past 
she learned how to wear it. She has multiplied her 
powers and usefulness a hundred-fold by reason of hav- 
ing learned to assume responsibility. 

She has learned to lift her eyes and scan the far 
horizon and not be afraid. With gentle, kindly eyes 
she can look into the faces of men and women in all 
lands and not be abashed in their presence. She can 
soothe the child to rest and prove herself a scourge 
to evil-doers, all within the hour. She knows herself 
equal to the best, but not above the least. She does 
not need to pose, for she knows her own power without 
ever vaunting it. Her simplicity and sincerity are the 
fragrant bloom of her sense of responsibility both to 
herself and her kind. She gives of herself and her 
means as a gracious discharge of obligation to the 
less fortunate, but never as charity. She feels her- 
self bound up in the interests of humanity and would 
do her full part in helping to make life more worth 
while. Her touch has the gift of healing and her tongue 
distills kindness. Her obligations to the human family 
are privileges to be esteemed and enjoyed and not bur- 
dens to be endured and reviled. And she thinks of 
her superintendent and teachers with gratitude for their 
part in the process of developing her into what she is, 
and what she may yet become. 

Only such as the defiant, wicked, and rebellious Cain 
can ask the question, "Am I my brother's keeper?" 
The man who feels no responsibility for the character 

[83] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

and good name of the community of which he is a mem- 
ber is a spiritual outcast and will become a social 
pariah if he persists in maintaining his attitude of in- 
difference. For, after all, responsibility amounts to a 
spiritual attitude. If the man feels no responsibility 
to his community he will begrudge it the taxes he pays, 
the improvements he is required to make, and will be 
irked by every advance that makes for civic better- 
ment. To him the church and school will seem ex- 
crescences and superfluities, nor would he grieve to see 
them obliterated. His exodus would prove a distinct 
boon to the community. He may have a noble physique, 
good mentality, much knowledge, and large wealth, 
and yet, with all these things in his favor, lie is neverthe- 
less a liability for the single reason that he lacks a 
sense of responsibility. Could his teachers have fore- 
seen his present attitude no efforts, on their part, would 
have seemed too great if only they could have fore- 
stalled his misfortune. And it is for the teachers to 
determine whether the boy of today shall become a du- 
plicate of the man here portrayed. 

Every man who lives under a democratic form of 
government has the opportunity before him each day 
to raise or lower the level of democracy. When the 
night comes on, if he reflects upon the matter, he must 
become conscious that he has done either the one or 
the other. Either democracy is a better thing for 
humanity because of his day's work and influence, or 
it is a worse thing. This is a responsibility that he 
can neither shift nor shirk. It is fastened upon him 
with or against his will. It rests with him to determine 
whether he would have every other man and every boy 
in the land select him as their model and follow his 
example to the last detail. He alone can decide whether 
[84] 



SENSE OF RESPONSIBILITY 

he would have all men indulge in the practices that con- 
stitute his daily life, consort with his companions, 
hold his views on all subjects, read only the books that 
engage his interest, duplicate his thoughts, aspirations, 
impulses, and language, and become, each one, his other 
self. Every boy who now sits in the school must answer 
these questions for himself sooner or later, nor can he 
hope to evade them. Happy is that boy, therefore, 
whose teacher has the foresight and the wisdom to 
train him into such a sense of responsibility as will 
enable him to answer them in such a way that the 
future will bring to him no pang of remorse. 

Thomas A. Edison is one of the benefactors of his 
time. He reached out into space and grasped a sub- 
stance that is both invisible and intangible, harnessed 
it with trappings, pushed a button, and the world was 
illumined. There were years of unremitting toil behind 
this achievement, years of discouragement bordering 
on despair, but years in which the light of hope was kept 
burning. We accept his gift with the very acme of 
nonchalance and with little or no feeling of gratitude. 
Perhaps he would not have it otherwise. We do not 
know. But certain it is that his marvelous achieve- 
ment has made life more agreeable to millions of people 
and he must be conscious of this fact. At some time 
in his life he must have achieved a sense of responsibility 
to his fellows and this worthy sentiment must have 
become the guiding principle in all his labors. If some 
teacher fostered in him this sense of responsibility, she 
did a piece of work for the world that can never be 
measured in terms of salary. She did not teach arith- 
metic, or grammar, or geography. She taught Edi- 
son. And one of the big results of her teaching was his 
attainment of this sense of responsibility which far 

[85] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

overtops all the arithmetic and history that he ever 
learned. The man who carried the message to Garcia 
is another fitting illustration of this same principle. 
In executing his commission he overcame difficulties 
that would have seemed insurmountable to a less in- 
trepid man. He kept his eye on the goal and endured 
almost unspeakable hardships in pressing forward 
toward this goal. Somehow and somewhere in his life 
he had learned the meaning of responsibility and so felt 
that he must not fail. The world came to know him 
as a hero because he was a hero at heart and his heroic 
achievement had its origin in the training that led him 
to feel a sense of responsibility. 



[86] 



CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Loyalty 

WHEN the boy overhears a companion put a 
slight upon the good name of his mother, he 
does not deliberate but, like a flash, smites the mouth 
that defames. He may deliberate afterward, for the 
mind then has a fact upon which to work, but if he is 
a worthy son it is not till afterwards. Spiritual im- 
pulses are as quick as powder and as direct as a shaft 
of light. So quick are they that we are prone to dis- 
regard them in our contemplation of their results. We 
see the boy strike and conclude, in a superficial way, 
that his hand initiated the action, nor take pains to 
trace this action back to the primal cause in the spirit- 
ual impulse. True, both mind and body are called into 
action, but only as auxiliaries to carry out the behests 
of the spirit. When the man utters an exclamation 
of delight at sight of his country's flag in a foreign 
port, the sound that we hear is but the conclusion or 
completion of the series of happenings. It is not the 
initial happening at all. On the instant when his eyes 
caught sight of the flag something took place inside the 
man's nature. This spiritual explosion was telegraphed 
to the mind, the mind, in turn, issued a command to 
the body, and the sound that was noted was the final 
result. In a general way, education is the process of 
training mind and body to obey and execute right 
commands of the spirit. This definition will justify 
our characterization of education as a spiritual pro- 
cess. 

Seeing, then, that the body is but a helper whose 

[87] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

function is to execute the mandates of the spirit, and 
seeing, too, that education is a process of the spirit, 
it follows that our concern must be primarily and 
always with the spirit as major. It is the spirit that 
reacts, not the mind or the body, and education is, 
therefore, the process of inducing right reactions of 
the spirit. The nature of these reactions depends upon 
the quality of the external stimuli. If we provide 
the right sort of stimuli the reactions will be right. 
If, today, the spirit reacts to a beautiful picture, 
tomorrow, to the tree in bloom, the next day to an 
alluring landscape, and the next to the glory of a 
sunrise, in time its reactions to beauty in every form 
will become habitual. If we can induce reactions, day 
by day, to beautiful or sublime passages in literature, 
in due time the spirit will refuse to react to what is 
shoddy and commonplace. By inducing reactions to 
increasingly better musical compositions, day after day, 
we finally inculcate the habit of reacting only to high- 
grade music, and the lower type makes no appeal. By 
such a process we shall finally produce an educated, 
cultivated man or woman, the crowning glory of educa- 
tion. 

The measure of our success in this process of educa- 
tion will be the number of reactions we can induce to 
the right sort of stimuli. In this, we shall have occa- 
sion to make many substitutions. The boy who has 
been reacting to ugliness must be lured away by the 
substitution of beauty. The beautiful picture will take 
the place of the bizarre until nothing but such a pic- 
ture will give pleasure and satisfaction. Indeed, the 
substitution of beauty for ugliness will, in time, induce 
a revolt against what is ugly and stimulate the boy 
to desire to transform the ugly thing into a thing of 

[ 88 ] 



LOYALTY 

beauty. Many a home shows the effects of reaction in 
the school to artistic surroundings. The child reacts 
to beauty in the school and so yearns for the same sort 
of stimuli in the home. When the little girl entreats 
her mother to provide for her such a ribbon as the 
teacher wears, we see an exemplification of this prin- 
ciple. When only the best in literature, in art, in na- 
ture, in music, and in conduct avail to produce re- 
actions, we may well proclaim the one who reacts to 
these stimuli an educated person. It is well to repeat 
that these reactions are all spiritual manifestations 
and that the conduct of mind and body is a resultant. 

To casual thinking it may seem a far cry from re- 
actions and external stimuli to loyalty, but not so by 
any means. The man or woman who has been led to 
react to the Madonna of the Chair, the Plow Oxen, 
or the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel will experience a 
revival and recurrence of the reaction at every sight 
of the masterpiece, whether the original or a reproduc- 
tion. That masterpiece has become this person's 
standard of art and neither argument, nor persuasion, 
nor sophistry can divorce him from his ideal. The 
boy's mother is one of his ideals. He believes her to 
be the best woman alive, and it were a sorry fact if he 
did not. Hence, when her good qualities are assailed 
his spirit explodes and commands his right arm to 
become a battering-ram. The kindness of the mother 
has caused the boy's spirit to react a thousand times, 
and his reaction in defending her name from calumny 
was but another evidence of an acquired spiritual 
habit. 

Hence it is that we find loyalty enmeshed in these 
elements that pertain to the province of psychology. 
It must be so, seeing that these elements and loyalty 

[89] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

have to do with the spirit, for loyalty is nothing other 
than a reaction to the same external stimuli that 
have induced reactions many times before. In setting 
up loyalty, therefore, as one of the big goals of school 
endeavor the superintendent has only to make a list of 
the external stimuli that will induce proper reactions 
and so groove these reactions into habit. His prob- 
lem, thus stated, seems altogether simple but, in work- 
ing out the details, he will find himself facing the entire 
scheme of education. If he would induce reactions that 
spell loyalty he must make no mistake in respect of ex- 
ternal stimuli, for it must be reiterated that the char- 
acter of the stimuli conditions the reactions. We may 
not hope to achieve loyalty unless through the years 
of training we have provided stimuli of the right 
sort. 

If the sentiment of loyalty concerns itself with the 
teachings of the Bible and the tenets of the church, 
we call it religion; if it has to do with one's country 
and what its flag represents, we call it patriotism ; and 
in many another relation we call it fidelity. Hence 
it is obvious that loyalty is an inclusive quality and 
in its ramifications reaches out into every phase of 
life. This gives us clear warrant for making it one 
of the prime objectives in a rational, as distinguished 
from a traditional, scheme of education. The pro- 
gressive superintendent who is endowed with per- 
spicacity, resourcefulness, altruism, and faith in him- 
self will consult the highest interests of the boys and 
girls of his school before he relegates the matter to 
oblivion. To such as he we must look for advance 
and for the redemption of our schools from their tra- 
ditional moorings. To such as he we must look for 
the inoculation of the teachers with such virus as will 

[90] 



LOYALTY 

render them vital, dynamic, and eager to essay any 
new task that gives promise of a larger and better 
outlook for their pupils. 

In the second chapter of Revelation, tenth verse, 
we read, " Be thou faithful unto death and I will give 
thee the crown of life." Now this is quite as true in 
a psychological sense as it is in a scriptural sense. 
It is a great pity that we do not read the Bible far 
more for lessons in pedagogy. However, too many 
people misread the quoted passage. They interpret 
the expression " unto death " as if it were " until 
death." This interpretation would weaken the ex- 
pression. The martyrs would not recant even when 
the fires were blazing all about them or when their bodies 
were lacerated. They were faithful unto death. In 
his poem Invictus Henley says. 

In the fell clutch of circumstance 
I have not winced nor cried aloud; 
Under the bludgeonings of chance, 
My head is bloody but unbowed. 

And only so can the spirit hope to achieve emancipa- 
tion and win out into the clear. This is the crown of 
life. Michael Angelo represents Joseph of Arimathea 
standing at the tomb of the Master with head erect and 
with the mien of faith. He did not understand at all, 
and yet his faithful heart encouraged him to hope and 
to hold his head from drooping. He was faithful even 
in the darkness and on the morning of the Resurrection 
he received his crown. 

When we set up loyalty as one of our major goals 
we shall become alert to every illustration of it that 
falls under our gaze. The story of Nathan Hale will 
become newly alive and will thrill as never before. 

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THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

Over against Nathan Hale we shall set Philip Nolan 
for the sake of comparison and contrast. Even though 
our pupils may regard Joan of Arc as a fanatic, her 
heroism and her fidelity to her convictions will shine 
forth as a star in the night and her example as illus- 
trating loyalty will be as seed planted in fertile soil. 
In our quest for exemplars we shall find the pages 
of history palpitating with life. We may sow dead 
dragon's teeth, but armed men will spring into being. 
Thermopylae will become a new story, while William 
Tell and Arnold Winkelried will take rank among the 
demigods. Sidney Carton will become far more than 
a mere character of fiction, for on his head we shall find 
a halo, and Horace Mann will become far more than 
a mere schoolmaster. Historians, poets, novelists, 
statesmen, and philanthropists will rally about us to 
reinforce our efforts and to cite to us men and women of 
all times who shone resplendent by reason of their 
loyalty. 

Our objective being loyalty, we shall omit the lesson 
in grammar for today in order to induce the spirits 
of our pupils to react to the story of Jephthah's 
daughter. For once they have emotionalized it, have 
really felt its power, this story will become to them 
a rare possession and will entwine itself in the warp 
and woof of their lives and form a pattern of exceed- 
ing beauty whose colors will not fade. They shall hear 
the solemn vow of the father to sacrifice unto the 
Lord the first living creature that meets his gaze after 
the victory over his enemies. They shall see him re- 
turning invested with the glory of the victor. Then 
the child will be seen running forth to meet him, the 
first living creature his gaze has fallen upon since the 
battle. They will note her gladness to see him and 
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LOYALTY 

to know that he is safe. They will see the dancing 
of her eyes and hear her rippling, joyous laughter. 
They will become tense as the father is telling her of 
his vow. But the climax is reached when they hear 
her saying, " My father, if thou hast opened thy mouth 
unto the Lord, do to me according to that which hath 
proceeded out of thy mouth." And, with bated breath, 
they see her meeting death with a smile that her father 
may keep his covenant with the Lord. Ever after this 
story will mark to them the very zenith of loyalty, 
and the lesson in grammar can await another day. 

Again, instead of the regular reading lesson the 
school may well substitute the story of David, as given 
in the eleventh chapter of Chronicles. " Now three of 
the thirty captains went down to the rock to David, 
into the cave of Adullam; and the host of the Philistines 
encamped in the valley of Rephaim. And David was 
then in the hold, and the Philistines' garrison was then 
at Bethlehem. And David longed, and said, * O that 
one would give me drink of the water of the well of 
Bethlehem that is at the gate.' And the three brake 
through the host of the Philistines, and drew water out 
of the well of Bethlehem, that was by the gate, and took 
it, and brought it to David; but David would not 
drink of it, but poured it out to the Lord, and said, 
' My God forbid it me, that I should do this thing. 
Shall I drink the blood of these men that have put their 
lives in jeopardy? for with the jeopardy of their lives 
they brought.' Therefore he would not drink it." 

Without any semblance of irreverence we may para- 
phrase this story slightly and have our own General 
Pershing stand in the place of David asking for water. 
Then we can see three of his soldiers going across No 
Man's Land in quest of the water which he craves. 

[93] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

When they return, bearing the water to him from the 
spring in the enemy's territory, we can see him pour- 
ing the water upon the ground and refusing to drink 
it because of the hazard of the enterprise. No ful- 
some explanation will need to be given to impress upon 
the pupils the loyalty of the soldiers to their general, 
nor yet the loyalty of the general to his soldiers. Or 
again, in the oral English two of the pupils may be 
asked to tell the stories of Ruth and Esther, and 
certain it is, if these stories are told effectively, the 
pupils will thrill with admiration for the loyalty of 
these two noble characters. 

On his way home for vacation a college student was 
telling his companion on the train of the trip ahead, 
relating that at such a time he would reach the junc- 
tion and at a certain hour he would walk into his home 
just in time for supper; he concluded by paying a 
tribute to the noble qualities of his mother. This man 
is now an attorney in a large city and it is incon- 
ceivable that he can ever be guilty of apostasy from 
the ideals and principles to which he reacted in his 
boyhood in that village home. Whatever temptations 
may come to him, the mother's face and voice and the 
memory of her high principles will forbid his yielding 
and hold him steady and loyal to that mother and 
her teaching. He must feel that if he should debase 
himself he would dishonor her, and that he cannot do. 
He can still hear her voice echoing from the years 
long gone, and feel the kindly touch of her hand upon 
his brow. When troubles came, mother knew just what 
to do and soon the sun was shining again. It was her 
magic that made the rough places smooth, her voice 
that exorcised all evil spirits. She it was who drove 
the lions from his path and made it a place of peace 

[94] 



LOYALTY 

and joy. To be disloyal to her would be to lose his 
manhood. 

Whatever vicissitudes befall, we yearn to return to 
the old homestead, for there, and there alone, can we 
experience, in full measure, the reactions that came 
from our early associations with the old well, the bridge 
that spans the brook, the trees bending low with their 
luscious fruit, the grape arbor, the spring that bubbles 
and laughs as it gives forth its limpid treasure, the 
fields that are redolent of the harvest season, and the 
royal meal on the back porch. The man who does not 
smile in recalling such scenes of his boyhood days is 
abnormal, disloyal, and an apostate. These are the 
scenes that anchor the soul and give meaning to civili- 
zation. The man who will not fight for the old home, 
and for the memory of father and mother, will not fight 
for the flag of his country and is, at heart, an alien. 
But the man who is loyal to the home of his early years, 
loyal to the memory of his parents, and loyal to the 
principles which they implanted in his life, such a man 
can never be less than loyal to the flag that floats over 
him, loyal to the land in which he finds his home, and 
ever loyal to the best and highest interests of that land. 
Never, because of him, will the colors of the flag lose 
their luster or the stars grow dim. He will be faithful 
even unto death, because loyalty throbs in his every 
pulsation, is proclaimed by his every word, is enmeshed 
in every drop of his blood and has become a vital part 
of himself. 



[95] 



CHAPTER TWELVE 

Democracy 

IN a recent book H. G. Wells says that education 
has lost its way. Whether we give assent to this 
statement or not, it must be admitted that it is a direct 
challenge to the school, the home, the pulpit, the press, 
to government, and to society. If education has in- 
deed lost its way, the responsibility rests with these 
educational agencies. If education has lost its way, 
these agencies must unite in a benevolent conspiracy 
to help it find it again. The war has brought these 
agencies into much closer fellowship and they are now 
working in greater harmony than ever before. This 
is due to the fact that they are working to a com^- 
mon end, that they are animated by a common pur- 
pose. The war is producing many readjustments and 
a new scale of values. Many things that were once 
considered majors are now thought of as minors, and 
the work of reconstruction has only just begun. Civ- 
ilization is now in the throes of a re-birth and people 
are awakening from their complacency and thinking 
out toward the big things of life. They are lifting 
their gaze above and beyond party, and creed, and 
racial ties, and territorial boundaries, and fixing it 
upon their big common interests. More and more has 
their thinking been focused upon democracy, until this 
has become a watchword throughout the world. About 
this focal point people's thoughts are rallying day by 
day, and their community of feeling and thinking is 
leading to community of action. 

Primarily, democracy is a spiritual impulse, the 
quintessence of the Golden Rule. " As a man thinketh 

[96] 



DEMOCRACY 

in his heart so is he," and this spiritual quality in- 
evitably precedes and conditions democracy in its out- 
ward manifestations. Feeling, thinking, willing, doing 
— these are the stages in the law of life. The Golden 
Rule in action has its inception in the love of man for 
his fellow-man. The action is but the visible fruitage 
of the invisible spiritual impulse. The soldier in the 
trench, the sailor on the ship, the nurse in the hospital, 
the worker in the factory, and the official at his desk, 
all exemplify this principle. The outward manifesta- 
tions of the inward impulse, democracy, are many and 
varied, and the demands of the war greatly increased 
both the number and variety. People essayed tasks 
that, a few years ago, would have seemed impossible; 
nor did they demean themselves in so doing. The pro- 
duction and conservation of food has become a national 
enterprise that has enlisted the active cooperation of 
men, women, and children of all classes, creeds, and con- 
ditions. Rich and poor joined in the work of war gar- 
dens, thinking all the while not only of their own larders 
but quite as much of their friends across the sea. And 
while they helped win the war, they were winning their 
own souls, for they were yielding obedience to a spirit- 
ual impulse and not a mere animal desire. Thus Ameri- 
cans and the people of other lands, like children at 
school, are learning the lesson of democracy. More- 
over, they are now appalled at the wastage of former 
years and at the cheapness of many of the things that 
once held their interest. 

In this process of achieving an access of democracy 
it holds true that " There is no impression without 
expression." Each reaction of the spirit tends to 
groove the impression into a habit, and this process has 
had a thousand exemplifications before our eyes since the 

[97] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

opening of the war. People who were only mildly 
inoculated with the democratic spirit at first became 
surcharged with this spirit because of their many re- 
actions. They have been obeying the behests of spirit- 
ual impulse, working in war gardens, eliminating 
luxuries, purchasing bonds, contributing to benevolent 
enterprises, until democracy is their ruling passion. 
Every effort a man puts forth in the interest of hu- 
manity has a reflex influence upon his inner self and 
he experiences a spiritual expansion. So it has come 
to pass that men and women are doing two, three, or 
ten times the amount of work they did in the past and 
doing it better. Their aroused and enlarged spiritual 
impulses are the enginery that is driving their minds 
and bodies forward into virgin territory, into new 
and larger enterprises, and thus into a wider, deeper 
realization of their own capabilities. So the leaven 
of democracy is working through difficulties of sur- 
passing obduracy and resolving situations that seemed, 
in the past, to be beyond human achievement. And 
of democracy it may be said, as of Dame Rumor of old, 
" She grows strong by motion and gains power by 
going. Small at first through fear, she presently raises 
herself into the air, she walks upon the ground and lifts 
her head among the clouds." On the side of democracy, 
at any rate, it would seem that education is beginning 
to find its way again. 

In the thinking of most people democracy is a form 
of government; but primarily it is not this at all. 
Rather it is a spiritual attitude. The form of govern- 
ment is an outward manifestation of the inward feeling. 
Our ancestors held democracy hidden in their hearts 
as they crossed the ocean long before it became visible 
as a form of government. The form of government was 
[ 98 ] 



DEMOCRACY 

inevitable, seeing that they possessed the feeling of 
democracy, and that they were journeying to land in 
obedience to the dictates of this feeling. In education 
for democracy the form of government is an after-con- 
sideration; that will come as a natural sequence. The 
chief thing is to inoculate the spirits of people with a 
feeling for democracy. This germ will grow out into 
a form of government because of the unity of feeling 
and consequent thinking. When this spiritual attitude 
is generated, not only does the form of government fol- 
low, but people meet upon the plane of a common pur- 
pose and give expression to their inner selves in like 
movements. They come to realize that, in a large 
wa^^, each one is his brother's keeper. They are drawn 
together in closer sympathy and good-will; artificial 
barriers disappear; and they all become interested in 
the common good. Their interests, purposes, and 
activities become unified, and life becomes better and 
richer. Actuated by a common impulse, they exemplify 
what Kipling says in his Sons of Martha: 

Lift ye the stone or cleave the wood to make a path more fair or 
flat, 

Lo, it is black already with blood some Son of Martha spilled for 
that. 

Not as a ladder from Earth to Heaven, not as an altar to any 
creed. 

But simple Service, simply given, to tlieir own kind, in their com- 
mon need. 

As Dr. Henry van Dyke well says, " It is the silent 
ideal in the hearts of the people which molds character 
and guides action." 

It will be admitted without qualification that the 
school, when well administered, constitutes a force that 
is altogether favorable to the development of the spirit 

[99] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

of democracy, and no one will deny that democracy 
is a worthy goal toward which the activities of the school 
should be directed. It is easy to see just how geog- 
raphy, for instance, may be made a means to this end. 
The members of the class represent many conditions of 
society, but in the study of geography they unite in 
a common enterprise and have interests in common. 
Thus their spirits merge and, for the time, they become 
unified in a common quest. They become coordinates 
and confederates in this quest of geography, and the 
spirit of democracy expands in an atmosphere so favor- 
able to growth. These pupils may differ in race, in 
creed, or in color, but these differences are submerged 
in the zeal of a common purpose. Lines of demarcation 
are obliterated and they are drawn together because 
of their thinking and feeling in unison. The caste 
system does not thrive in the geography class and 
snobbery languishes. The pupils have the same books, 
the same assignments, the same teacher, and share alike 
in all the privileges and pleasures which the class pro- 
vides. Their grades are given on merit, with no sem- 
blance of discrimination. In short, they achieve the 
democratic attitude of spirit by means of the study of 
geography. 

If the teacher holds democracy in mind, all the while, 
as the goal of endeavor, she will find abundant oppor- 
tunities to inculcate and develop the democratic ideal. 
By tactful suggestion she directs the activities of the 
children into channels that lead to unity of purpose. 
Where help is needed, she arranges that help may be 
forthcoming. Where sympathy will prove a solace, 
sympathy will be given, for sympathy grows sponta- 
neously in a democratic atmosphere. Books, pictures, 
and flowers come forth as if by magic to bear their 
[100] 



DEMOCRACY 

kindly messages and to render their appointed service. 
By the subtle alchemy of her very presence, the teacher 
who is deeply imbued with the spirit of democracy fuses 
the spirits of her pupils and causes them to blend in 
the pursuit of truth. Thus she brings it to pass that 
the spirit of democracy dominates the school and each 
pupil comes to feel a sense of responsibility for the 
well-being of all the others. So the school achieves the 
goal of democracy by means of the studies pursued, and 
the pupils come to experience the altruism, the impulse 
to serve, and the centrifugal urge of the democratic 
spirit. 



[101] 



CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

Serenity 

SERENITY does not mean either stolidity or leth- 
argy; far otherwise. Nor does it mean sluggish- 
ness, apathy or phlegmatism ; quite the contrary. It 
does mean depth as opposed to shallowness, bigness as 
opposed to littleness, and vision as opposed to spiritual 
myopia. It means dignity, poise, aplomb, balance. It 
means that there is sufficient ballast to hold the ship 
steady on its way, no matter how much sail it spreads. 
When we see serenity, we are quite aware of other spirit- 
ual qualities that foster it and lift it into view. We 
know that courage is one of the hidden pillars on which 
it rests and that sincerity contributes to its grace and 
charm. It is a vital crescent quality as staunch as 
the oak and as graceful as the rainbow. It evermore 
stands upon a pedestal, and a host of devotees do it 
homage. It is as majestic and beautiful as the iceberg 
but as warm-hearted as love. It has reserve, and yet 
it attracts rather than repels. A thousand influences 
are poured into the alembic of the spirit, and serenity 
issues forth in modest splendor. 

This quality of the spirit both betokens and embodies 
power, and power governs the universe. Its power is 
not that of the storm that harries and devastates, but 
rather that of the sunshine that fructifies, purifies, 
chastens, and ripens. It does not rush or crash into a 
situation but steals in as quietly as the dawn, without 
noise or bombast, and, by its gentle influence, softens 
asperities and wins a smile from the face of sorrow, 
or discouragement, or anger. Its presence transforms 
discord into harmony, irradiates gloom, and evokes rare 

[ 102 ] 



SERENITY 

flowers from the murky soil of discontent. Whatever 
storms may rage elsewhere and whatever darkness may 
enshroud, it ever keeps its place as the center of a 
circle of calm and light. It is Venus of Milo come 
to life, silently distilling the beauty and splendor of 
living. In its presence harshness becomes gentleness, 
hysteria becomes equanimity, and sound becomes silence. 
From its presence vaunting and vainglory and arro- 
gance hasten away to be with their own kind. By its 
power, as of a miracle, it changes the dross into fine 
gold, the grotesque into the seemly, the vulgar into the 
pure, the water into wine. Into the midst of commo- 
tion and confusion it quietly moves, saying, " Peace, 
be still ! " and there is quiet and repose. Like the 
sun-crowned summit of the mountain, it stands erect 
and sublime nor heeds the cloudy tumult at its feet. 
In the school, the teacher who exemplifies and typifies 
this quality of serenity is never less than dignified but, 
withal, is never either cold or rigid. Children nestle 
about her in their affections and expand in her presence 
as flowers open in the sunshine. She cannot be a 
martinet nor, in her presence, can the children become 
sycophants. Her very presence generates an atmos- 
phere that is conducive to healthy growth. There is 
that impelling force about her that draws people to 
her as iron filings are drawn to the magnet. Her 
smile stills the tumult of youthful exuberance and when 
the children look at her they gain a comprehensive 
definition of a lady. Her poise steadies the children 
in all the ramifications of their work, her complete 
mastery of herself wins their admiration, and her com- 
plete mastery of the situation wins their respect. They 
become inoculated with her spirit and make daily ad- 
vances toward the goal of serenity. Knowledge is her 

[103] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

meat and drink and, through the subtle alchemy of sub- 
limation, her knowledge issues forth into wisdom. She 
does not pose, for her simplicity and sincerity have 
no need of artificial garnishings. Her outward mien 
is but the expression of her spiritual power, and when 
we contemplate her we know of a truth that education 
is a spiritual process. 

To the teacher without serenity, the days abound 
in troubles. She is nervous, peevish, querulous, and 
irritable, and her pupils become equally so. She thinks 
of them as incorrigibles and tells them so. To her they 
seem bad and she tells them so. Her animadversions 
reflect upon their parents and their home life as well 
as themselves and she takes unction to herself by reason 
of her strictures. Her spiritual ballast is unequal to 
the sail she carries and her craft in consequence careens 
and every day ships water of icy coldness that chills 
her pupils to the heart. She has knowledge, indeed 
much knowledge, but she lacks wisdom, hence her knowl- 
edge becomes weakness and not power. She has spirit- 
ual hysteria which manifests itself in her manner, in 
her looks, and in her voice. Her spiritual strength 
is insufficient for the load she tries to carry and her 
path shows uneven and tortuous. She nags and scolds 
in strident tones that ruffle and rasp the spirits of her 
pupils and beget in them a longing to become whatever 
she is not. She is noisy where quiet is needful; she 
causes disturbance where there should be peace; and 
she disquiets where she should soothe. She may have 
had training, but she lacks education, for her spiritual 
qualities show only chaos. The waters of her soul are 
shallow and so are lashed into tumult by the slightest 
storm. She lacks serenity. 

The test of a real teacher is not whether she will be 

[ 104 ] 



SERENITY 

good to the children but, rather, whether she will be 
good for the children, and these concepts are wide 
apart. If our colleges and normal schools could but 
gain the notion that their function is to prepare 
teachers who will be good for children they might find 
occasion to modify their courses radically. Unless she 
has serenity the teacher is not good for children, for 
serenity is one of the qualities which they themselves 
should possess as the result of their school experience 
and it is not easy for them to achieve this quality if 
the teacher's example and influence are adverse. We 
test prospective teachers for their knowledge of this 
subject and that, when, in reality, we should be trying 
to determine whether they will be good for the pupils. 
But we have contracted the habit of thinking that 
knowledge is power and so test for knowledge, thinking, 
futilely, that we are testing for power. We judge of a 
teacher's efficacy by some marks that examiners Inscribe 
upon a bit of paper, " a thing laughable to gods and 
men." She may be proficient in languages, sciences, 
and arts and still not be good for the children by reason 
of the absence of spiritual qualities. None the less, 
we admit her to the school as teacher when we would 
decline to admit her to the hospital as nurse. We say 
she would not be good for the patients in the hospital 
but nevertheless accept her as the teacher of our chil- 
dren. 

In Ephesians we read, " But the fruit of the Spirit 
is love, joy, peace, longsufFering, gentleness, goodness, 
faith, meekness, temperance," and such an array of 
excellent spiritual qualities should attract the attention 
of all the agencies that have to do with the preparation 
of teachers. We need only to make a list of the 
opposites of these qualities to be convinced that the 

[105] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

teacher who possesses these opposites would not be 
good for the children. Now serenity embodies all the 
foregoing excellent qualities and, therefore, the teacher 
who has serenity has a host of qualities that will make 
for the success and well-being of her pupils. Again, 
quoting from Henderson : " My whole point is that 
these spiritual quahties in a boy are infinitely more 
important to his present charm and future achievement 
than any amount of academic training, than the most 
complete knowledge of reading, writing, arithmetic, his- 
tory, geography, grammar, spelling, classics, and natu- 
ral science. For charm and achievement are of the 
Spirit. It is very clear, then, that we ought to make 
these spiritual qualities the major end of all our en- 
deavor during those wonderful years of grace; and 
that we ought to allow the intellectual development, 
up to fourteen years at least, to be a by-product, valu- 
able and welcome certainly, but not primarily sought 
after. In the end we should get much the larger har- 
vest of intellectual power, and much the larger man." 
We cannot hope to achieve the reconstructed school 
until our notion of teaching and teachers has been 
reconstructed. When we secure teachers who have 
education and not mere knowledge, we may begin to 
hope. We must look to the colleges and normal schools 
to furnish such teachers. If they cannot do so, our 
schools must plod along on the path of tradition with- 
out hope of finding the better way. There are faint 
indications, however, here and there, that the colleges 
and normal schools are beginning to stir in their sleep 
and are becoming somewhat aware of their opportuni- 
ties and responsibilities. We shall hail with acclaim 
the glad day when they come to realize that the 
preparation of teachers for their work is a task of 
[106] 



SERENITY 

large import and goes deeper than facts, and statistics, 
and theories, and knowledge. If they furnish a teacher 
who has the quality of serenity, we shall all be fully 
alive to the fact that that quality is the luscious and 
nutritious fruitage of scholarshp, of wide knowledge, 
of much reading, of deep meditation, and keen obser- 
vation. But these elements, either singly or in com- 
bination, are but veneer unless they strike their roots 
into the spiritual nature and are thus nourished into 
spiritual qualities. Excavating into serenity, we shall 
discover the pure gold of scholarship; we shall find 
knowledge in great abundance; we shall find the spirit 
of the greatest and best books ; and we shall come upon 
the cloister in which meditation has done its perfect 
work. 

The machine that is run to the extreme limit of its 
capacity splutters, sizzles, hisses, and quivers, and 
finally shakes itself into a condition of ineffectiveness. 
But the machine that is run well within the limits of 
its capacity is steady, noiseless, serene, effective, and 
durable. So with people. The person who essays a 
task that is beyond his capacity is certain to come 
to grief and to create no end of disturbance to him- 
self and others before the final catastrophe. If the 
steam-chest or boiler is not equal to the task, wisdom 
and safety would counsel the installation of a larger 
one. Here is one of the tragedies of our scheme of 
education. The spirit is the power-plant of all life's 
operations and in this plant are many boilers. Instead 
of calling more and more of these into action, we seem 
intent upon repressing them and thus we reduce the 
capacity of the plant as a whole. When we should 
be lighting or replenishing the fires under the boilers of 
imagination, initiative, aspiration, and reverence, we 

[107] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

spend our time striving to bank or quench these fires 
and in playing and dawdling with the torches of arith- 
metic, grammar, and history with which we should be 
kindling the fires. Thus we diminish the power of the 
plant while life's activities are calling for extension 
and enlargement. We seem to be trying to train our 
pupils to work with one or but few boilers when there 
are scores of them available if only we knew how to 
utilize them. 

Hence, it must appear that reserve-power and 
serenity are virtually synonymous. The teacher who 
has achieved serenity never uses all the power at her 
command and, in consequence, all her actions are easy, 
quiet, and even. She is always stable and never mer- 
curial or spasmodic. She encounters steep grades, to 
be sure, but with ease and grace she applies a bit more 
power from her abundant supply and so compasses the 
difficulty without disturbing the calm. She is fully 
conscious of her reservoir of power and can concen- 
trate all her attention upon the work in hand. The 
ballast in the hold keeps the mast perpendicular and 
the sails in position to catch the favoring breeze. We 
admire and applaud the graceful ship as it speeds along 
its course, giving little heed to the ballast in the hold 
that gives it poise and balance. But the ballast is 
there, else the ship would not be moving with such 
majestic mien. Nor was this ballast provided in a day. 
Rather it has been accumulating through the years, and 
bears the mark of college halls, of libraries, of labora- 
tories, of the auditorium, of the mountain, the ocean, 
the starry night, of the deep forest, of the landscape, 
and of communion with all that is big and fine. 

Socrates drinking the hemlock is a fitting and in- 
spiring illustration of serenity. In the presence of 

[108] 



SERENITY 

certain and imminent death he was far less perturbed 
than many another man in the presence of a pin-prick. 
And his imperturbabihty betokened bigness and not 
stolidity. While his disciples wept about him, he could 
counsel them to calmness and discourse to them upon 
immortality. He wept not, nor did he shudder back 
from the ordeal, but calm and masterful he raised the 
cup to his lips and smiled as he drank. His serenity 
won immortality for his name; for wherever language 
may be spoken or written, the story of Socrates will 
be told. History will not permit his name to be 
swallowed up in oblivion, not alone because he was the 
victim of ignorance and prejudice but also because his 
serenity, which was the offspring and proof of his wis- 
dom, did not fail him and his friends in the supreme 
test. It is not a slight matter, then, to set up serenity 
as one of the goals in our school work. Nor is it a 
slight matter for the teacher to show forth this quality 
in all her work and so inspire her pupils to follow in 
her footsteps. 

We hope, of course, that the boys and girls of our 
schools may attain serenity so that, even in their days 
of youth, urged on as they are by youthful exuberance, 
they may be orderly, decorous, and kindly-disposed. 
We would have them polite, as a matter of course, but 
we would hope that their politeness may be a part 
of themselves and not a mere accretion. They will 
have joy of life, but so does their teacher who is pos- 
sessed of serenity. Joy is not necessarily boisterous. 
The strains of music are no less music because they are 
mellow. We would have our young people think so- 
berly but not solemnly. And when all our people, young 
and old, reach the goal of serenity they will extol the 
teachers and the schools that showed them the way. 

[109] 



CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

Life 

FINALLY, we come to the chief among the goals, 
which is life itself. In fact, life is the super-goal. 
We study manual arts, science, and language that we 
may achieve the goals of integrity, imagination, aspira- 
tion, and serenity, and these qualities we weave into 
the fabric of life. Upon the spiritual qualities we 
weave into it, depend the texture and pattern of this 
fabric and the generating and developing of these qual- 
ities and the weaving of them into this fabric — this 
we call life. When we look upon a person who is well- 
conditioned and whose life is well-ordered, in body, in 
mind, and in spirit, we know, at once, that he possesses 
integrity, initiative, a sense of responsibility, reverence, 
and other high qualities that compose the person as we 
see him. We do not reflect upon what he knows of 
history, of geography, or of music, for we are taking 
note of an exemplification of life. Indeed, the presence 
or absence of these qualities determines the character 
of the person's life. Hence it is that life is the supreme 
goal of endeavor. Life is a composite and the crown- 
piece of all the qualities toward which we strive by 
means of arithmetic and grammar — in short, of all 
our activities both in school and out. 

One of our mistakes is that we confuse life and life- 
time, and construe life to mean the span of life. In 
this conception the unit of measurement is so large 
that our concept of life evaporates into a vague general- 
ization. Life is too specific, too definite for that. The 
quality of life may better be measured and tested in 
one-hour periods of duration. When the clock strikes 

[110] 



LIFE 

nine, we know that in just sixty minutes it will strike 
ten. In the space of those sixty minutes we may find 
a cross-section of life. In a single hour we may experi- 
ence a thousand sensations, arrive at a thousand judg- 
ments, and make a thousand responses to things about 
us. In that hour we may experience joy, sorrow, love, 
hate, envy, malice, sympathy, kindliness, courage, 
cowardice, pettiness, magnanimity, egoism, altruism, 
cruelty, mercy — a list, in fact, that reaches on almost 
interminably. If we only had a spiritual cyclometer 
attached to us, when the clock strikes ten we should 
have an interesting moment in noting the record. Only 
in some such way may each one of us gain a true notion 
of what his own life is. The one-hour period is quite 
long enough for a determination of the spiritual atti- 
tude and disposition of the individual. 

It is no small matter to achieve life, big, full, round, 
abounding, pulsating life ; but it is certainly well worth 
striving for. Some one has defined sin as the distance 
between what one is and what he might have been; and 
this distance measures his decline from the sphere of 
life to which he had right and title. For life is a 
sphere, seeing that it extends in all directions. Its 
limits are conterminous with the boundaries of time 
and space. The feeble-minded person has life, but only 
in a very restricted sphere. He eats ; he drinks ; he 
sleeps ; he wanders in narrow areas ; and that is all. His 
thinking is weak, meager, and fitful. To him darkness 
means a time for sleeping, and light a time for eating 
and waiting. He produces nothing either of thought 
or substance, but is a pensioner upon the thinking and 
substance of others. His eyesight is strong and his 
hearing unimpaired ; but he neither sees nor hears as 
normal persons do, because his spirit is incapable of 

[111] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

positive reactions, and his mind too weak to give com- 
mands to his bodily organs at the behest of the spirit. 
In the language of psychology, he lacks a sensory foun- 
dation by which to react to external stimuli. 

In striking contrast is the man whose sphere of life 
is large, whose spirit is capable of reacting to the orient 
and the Occident, to height and depth, and whose mind 
flashes across the space from the dawn to the sunset, 
and from nadir to zenith. Space is his playground, 
and his companions are the stars. Such a man feels 
and knows more life in an hour than his antithesis 
could feel and know in a century. To his spirit there 
are no metes and bounds; it has freedom and strength 
to make excursions to the far limits of space and time. 
Life comes to him from a thousand sources and in a 
thousand ways because he is able to go out to meet it. 
There has been developed in him a sensory foundation 
by which he can react to every influence the universe 
affords, to light and shadow, to joy and sorrow, to 
the near and the far, to the then and the now, to the 
lowly and the sublime, and to the finite and the Infinite. 
He has a big spirit, which is first in command; he 
has a strong, active mind, which is second in com- 
mand; and he has a loyal company of bodily organs 
that are able and willing to obey and execute com- 
mands. 

To such a man we apply all the epithets of compli- 
ment and commendation which the language yields and 
cite him as an exemplification of life at high tide, of 
life in its supreme fullness and splendor. The knowl- 
edge of the world comes to his doors to do his bidding; 
before him the arts and sciences make their obeisance; 
and wisdom is his pillar of cloud by day and his pillar 
of fire by night. Therefore we call him educated; we 

[112] 



LIFE 

call him a man of culture; we call him a gentleman; 
and all because he has achieved life in abundant meas- 
ure. Having imagination, he is able to peer into the 
future, anticipate world movements, and visualize the 
paths on which progress will travel. Having initiative 
as his badge of leadership, he is able to rally hosts of 
men to his standard to execute his behests for civic, 
national, and world betterment. Having aspiration, he 
obeys the divine urge within him and moves onward and 
upward, eager to plant the flag of progress upon the 
summit that others may see and be stimulated to re- 
newed hope and courage. 

And he has integrity, for he is a real man. He has 
wholeness, completeness, soundness, and roundness. 
He is an integer and never counts for less than one 
in any relation of life. He cannot be a mere cipher, 
for he is dynamic. He rings true at every impact of 
life, is free from dross and veneer, and is genuine 
through and through. There was arithmetic, back 
along the line somewhere, but it has been absorbed in 
the big quality which it helped to generate and develop. 
And it is better so. For if he were now solving deci- 
mals and square root he would be but a cog and not 
the great wheel itself. He has grown beyond his arith- 
metic as he has grown beyond his boyhood warts and 
freckles, for the larger life has absorbed them. Yet 
he feels no disdain either for freckles or arithmetic, 
but regards them as gracious incidents of youth and 
growth. He cannot read his Latin as he once could, 
but he does not grieve; for he knows it has not been 
lost but, in changed form, is enshrined in the heart of 
integrity. 

Again, he has the qualities of thoroughness, concen- 
tration, a sense of responsibility, loyalty, and serenity. 

[113] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

He is big enough, and true enough both to himself and 
others, to pursue a straight and steady course. To 
him, life is a boon, a privilege, an investment, an 
opportunity, a responsibility, and, therefore, a gift too 
precious to be squandered or frivoled away. To him, 
hours are of fine gold and should be seized that they 
may be fused and fashioned into a statue of beauty. 
Being loyal to this conception, he moves on from 
achievement to achievement nor stops to note that 
fragrant flowers of blessing and benediction are spring- 
ing forth luxuriantly in his path. His spirit is big 
with rightness, his brain is clear, his conscience is clean, 
his eyes look upward, his words are sincere, his thoughts 
are lofty, his purposes are true, and his acts distill 
blessings. He is no mere figment of fancy, but rather 
a noble reality whose prototype may be found on the 
bench, in the forum, in the study, in the sanctum, in 
the school and the college, in the factory, on the farm, 
and in the busy mart. 

And, withal, he is a success as a human being. His 
sincerity is proverbial in all things, both great and 
small. In him there is nothing of the mystic, the her- 
mit, or the sybarite. He has great joy of life, and 
this joy is true, honest, and real, and never simulated. 
He drinks in life at every pore, and gives forth life 
that invigorates and inspires whomsoever it touches. 
His laugh is the expression of his wholesome nature; 
his words are jewels of discrimination; his every sen- 
tence bears a helpful message; his fine sense of humor 
mellows and illumines every situation; and his face 
always shows forth the light within. Children find 
delight in his society, and the exuberant vitality of his 
nature wins for him the friendship of all living creatures. 
Birds seem to sing for him, and flowers to exhale their 

[114] 



LIFE 

odors for his delight. For the influences of birds, 
flowers, streams, trees, meadows, and mountains are 
enmeshed in his life. Nature reveals her secrets to him 
and gives to him of her treasures because he goes out 
to meet her. Because he smiles at nature she smiles 
back at him, and the union of their smiles gives joy 
to those who see. 

Moreover, he is a product of the reconstructed school, 
for this school does already exist, though in conspic- 
uous isolation. But the oasis is accentuated by its 
isolation in the desert which spreads about it and is the 
more inviting by contrast. When, as a child, he en- 
tered school, the teacher, who was in advance of her 
time in her conception of the true function of the 
school, made a close and sympathetic appraisement 
of his aptitudes, his native dispositions, his daily 
environment, and the bent of his inherent spiritual 
qualities. First of all, she won his confidence. Thus 
he found freedom, ease, and pleasure in her pres- 
ence. Thus, too, there ensued unconscious self-revela- 
tion and nothing in his life evaded her kindly scrutiny. 
He opened his mind to her frankly and fully, and never 
after did she permit the closing of the door. Only 
so could she become his teacher. 

She regarded him as an opportunity for the testing 
of all her knowledge, all her skill, and the full measure 
of her altruism. Nor was he the proverbial mass of 
plastic clay to be molded into some preconceived form. 
Her wisdom and modernity interdicted such a concep- 
tion of childhood as that. Rather, he was a growing 
plant, waiting for her skill to nurture him into blossom 
and fruitage. Some of his qualities she found good; 
others not. The good ones she made the objects of 
her special care; the others she allowed to perish from 

[115] 



THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL 

neglect. Her experience in gardening had taught her 
that, if we cultivate the potatoes assiduously, the weeds 
will disappear and need not concern us. She discerned 
in him a tender shoot of imagination and this she nur- 
tured as a priceless thing. She fertilized it with 
legend, story, song, and myth, and enveloped it in an 
atmosphere of warmth and joyousness. She led him 
into nature's realm, that his imagination might plume 
its wings for greater flights by its efforts to interpret 
the heart of things that live. Thus his imagination 
learned to traverse space, to explore sights and sounds 
his senses could not reach, and to construct for him 
another world of beauty and delight. 

So, too, with the other spiritual qualities. Upon 
these goals her gaze was fixed and she gently led him 
toward them. She taught the arithmetic with zest, with 
large understanding, and in a masterly way, for she 
was causing it to serve a high purpose. Whatever 
study she found helpful, this she used as a means with 
gratitude and gladness. If she found the book ill 
adapted to her purpose, she sought or wrote another. 
If pictures proved more potent than books, the gal- 
leries obeyed the magic of her skill and yielded forth 
their treasures. She yearned to have her pupil win the 
goals before him ; everything was grist that came to her 
mill if only it would serve her purpose. She disdained 
nothing that could afford nourishment to the spirit 
of the child and give him zeal, courage, and strength 
for the upward journey. If more arithmetic was 
needful, she found it ; if more history, she gave it ; and 
if the book on geography was inadequate, she supple- 
mented from libraries or from her own abundant store- 
house of knowledge. She dared to deviate from the 
course of study, if thereby the child might more cer- 

[116] 



LIFE 

tainlj win the goals toward which she ever looked and 
worked. 

In the boy, she saw a poet, a philosopher, a prophet, 
an artist, a musician, a statesman, or a philanthropist, 
and she worked and prayed that the artist in the child 
might not die but that he might grow to stalwart man- 
hood to glorify the work of her school. In each girl 
she saw another Ruth, or Esther, or Cordelia, or Clara 
Barton, or Frances Willard, or Florence Nightingale, 
or Rosa Bonheur, or Mrs. Stowe, or Mrs. Browning. 
And her heart yearned over each one of these and 
strove with power to nourish them into vigorous life 
that they might become jewels in her crown of rejoic- 
ing. She must not allow one to perish through her 
ignorance or malpractice, for she would keep her soul 
free from the charge of murder. And in the fullness 
of manhood and womanhood her pupils achieved the 
full symphony of life. They had won the goals toward 
which their teacher had been leading. Their spiritual 
qualities had converged and become life, and they had 
attained the super-goal. In the joy of their achieve- 
ment their teacher repeated the words of her own 
Teacher, " I am come that they might have life, and 
that they might have it more abundantly." 



[117] 



INDEX 



Altruism, 101 

American civilization, 14 

Apple tree, 75 

Arithmetic, 19; as means, never 

as end, 20 
Aspiration, 44-52 

Bible, 90 

Body, mind, spirit, 87 
Bogtrup, 51 
Browning, 45 

Cant, 55 

Children, let alone when, 58 

Citizenship, concept of, 5 

Civilization, 6 

Clean living, 10-11 

Columbus, 45 

Concept of life, 110 

Cooley, 51 

Course of study, 25 

Culture, 69 

David, 93 

Democracy, 2, 96-101; spiritual 

attitude, 98 
Democratic ideal, 100 
Destination, 17 
Dickens, 66 
Draft board, 10 
Dynamic teacher, 35 

Edison, 51 

Education, newer import of, 9; 

definition of, 36; a spiritual 

process, 104 
Esther, 94 
Excelsior, 50 

Farmers, 65 
Field, 45 
Froebel, 48 

Future as related to present, 
17-26 

Galileo, 66 
Geography, 49 



Grandchildren, 12 
Great Stone Face, 3 

Hand, 74 

Harvey's Grammar, 78 

Henderson, C. Han ford, 64, 

67 
Hercules, 78 
History, 51 
Hodge, 76 
Hugo, Victor, 72 
Hungry pupils, 47 

Ideals, 63 

Imagination, 62-69 

"Impart instruction," 39 

Incompleteness, 32 

Incorrigibility, 30 

Initiative, 53-61 

Integrity, 27-35; meaning of, 

28 
Inventions, 66 

Job, 76 
Jove, 22 

Keats, 40 

Kipling, 99 

Knowledge and wisdom, 30 

Life, 110-115 
Lincoln, 27 
Loyalty, 87-95 

Madonna of the Chair, 89 

Major ends, 25 

Man-made course of study, 33 

Manual training, 59 

Minerva, 22 

Minor ends, 25 

Model man, 83-86 

Model woman, 82-83 

Mother, 94 



Napoleon, 40 
North Star, 72 



[119] 



INDEX 



Objects of teaching, 18 
Old age, 37 
Old Glory, 95 
Olympus, 16 

Parker, 48 

Past as related to the present, 
10-16 

Paternalism, 60 

Pestalozzi, 48 

Physical training, 32 

Physician, 81 

Preliminary survey of task be- 
fore reconstructed school, 1-8 

Present, as related to the past, 
10-16; as related to the fu- 
ture, 1 7^3-6 

Process of reconstruction, 16 

Question and answer method, 
41 

Reactions, 88 

Reconstructed school, survey 

of, 1 
Relation of past to present, 

10-16 
Reserve-power, 108 
Respect, 70 
Responsibility, 78-86 
Revelation, 91 
Reverence, 70-77 
Ruth, 94 

Samson, 78 
Sandow, 78 

School is cross-section of life, 
56 



Serenity, 102-109; defined, 102 
Shakespeare, 41 
Sin, 111 
Sluggard, 38 
Socrates, 108-109 
Spiritual attitude, 84 
Spiritual coward, 80 
Spiritual hysteria, 104 
Standardized children, 29 
Statistics, 107 
Stimuli, 88 

Stuart, Ruth McEnery, 48^9 
Survey of task before recon- 
structed school, 1-8 
Swift, Edgar James, 57, 62 

Teachers, kinds of, 7; test of, 

104-105 
Teaching, objects of, 18 
Thoroughness, 23 
Tractor, 54 
Tradition, 21 
Traditional teacher, 35 
Truth, 76 

Unity, dawn of, 4 

Van Dyke, Henry, 61, 99 

Wall Street, 15 

War gardens, 97 

Wells, H. G., 96 

Words, 73 

World-minded superintendents 

and teachers, 8 
World war, 10 



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I 



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